


The Arrangement

by Ellisama



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, Hail Grima, Multi, Romance, Slow Romance, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-08 11:41:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 53,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4303572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellisama/pseuds/Ellisama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an Alternative Universe where Chrom's father lives, the Plegia-Ylisse war continues until Chrom is nineteen. With Gangrel’s death and the final treaty between the two countries being signed, Chrom meets the daughter of the new King of Plegia; Princess Robin. Little does he know that their parents have sealed their fates along with the treaty and have arranged their marriage. There is no price too high for peace, or is there? (Crossposted on tumblr as 'ingrimasname')</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Border Pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter now Beta'd by mitsurukirijoed. Thank you very much!

The sun was high in the sky when Chrom and Emmeryn arrived at the Border Pass between Plegia and Ylisse. A splash of dried blood strained a patch of grass, and Chrom steered his horse around it, suppressing the chill crawling down his spine. An abandoned spear here and a broken arrowhead there littered the way, testament to the war, but Emmeryn's gaze was straight ahead and never wavered from her goal. Sometimes, Chrom wondered if things would have been better if his father had succumbed to his injuries here years ago, and his sister had taken his place. His father was skilled in the art of war and a fanatic of Naga, but after years of senseless warfare over gods and beliefs there was little left to fight a war with. Emmeryn would have made peace a long time ago, and many lives would have been spared. She'd been counseling their father for years to end the war. And today, she might finally get her wish.

The Border Pass had been one of the fiercest battlegrounds during the war, and it was sheer irony that the peace summit was to be held on the graves of thousands of its victims. Nevertheless, he was a grown man now, and regardless of the outcome of these talks, he a duty to uphold, be it fighting for his people or bringing peace to their departed loved ones. He sneaked a look at Emmeryn who was riding besides him, the very picture of composure. She drafted the peace treaty herself, but she pleaded her father to present it to the Plegian King as if it were his own design. It was no secret that the Plegian court was much more patriarchic then Ylisse, and Emmeryn feared they would reject it because it was written by a woman.Their father had reluctantly agreed, and set off to the summit without her.

That was four weeks ago. Emmeryn had been left in charge of the capital, a job she was well versed in since their father had been leading the war effort from the front lines ever since their mother had been assassinated. The two siblings had waited impatiently together, until a week ago the messenger had called them to the Border Pass in order to finalize the terms. She had cried happy tears on their mother's grave that night when she thought their siblings were off to bed. They left the next day, accompanied by several Pegasus knights and their loyal bodyguard, Frederick.

His heart raced at the sight of the treaty camp. The tents were heavily guarded by both Ylissean and Plegian soldiers, but as they approached them, they were greeted cordially by both sides. Chrom allowed something akin to hope to flutter up in his chest. The end of the war might be just a few strokes of the pen away. A Ylissean stable hand took care of their horses while the Pegasus knights lectured him on proper Pegasus care. He recognized Sumia's voice among them, and was glad that one of his friends was with him here today. 

"Time to end this." Emmeryn spoke up from besides him, straightening out her dress with her hands.

"Finally," he agreed, and they shared a hopeful glance. His older sister insisted on fixing his hair for him while Frederick gave him a clean pair of pants that didn't smell like a week’s worth of travelling. He smiled at them both, and they nodded. Today was for their fallen friends. For Philia who had protected their father until her last breath, for Vaike who had volunteered to fight at the frontlines so one of the younger children didn't have to, and for Sully who had refused to abandon civilians when all hope was lost. He had buried them, mourned them, and promised he would end this for them and all they had stood for. 

With that thought in mind, he allowed Frederick to announce their arrival at the tent where the peace talks were held. He entered after his sister, meeting his father's eyes for a split second. The Exalted King had aged since the last time he’d seen him, his blue hair no longer devoid of grey. It had been a full year since he had seen his father, and the man looked more tired than ever. His father, who had started this war in the first place was finally willing to end it after the last King of Plegia was slain in battle.

The new King of Plegia was a dark haired and skinned man, his eyes void of the madness that had always possessed Gangrel. 

“Welcome, Princess Emmeryn, Prince Chrom.” The new king spoke, his voice serious and his dark brown eyes taking them in. “My name is Validar, and I am the new King of Plegia. I’m glad you could make it on such a short notice.”

Chrom had trouble holding the man’s intrusive gaze, and instead he let his eyes glide to the figure besides him, a young woman clad in a tacticians robe. Her hair was as white as Feroxi snow, and she was adorned with few golden pieces of jewelry. When their eyes met, something passed between them. Before he could figure out what it was, she had turned her attention to Emmeryn.

"The pleasure is ours, my King." Emmeryn spoke kindly, and Chrom nodded in agreement. "I'm sure we are all glad that we can put this troublesome war behind us after today."

"My thoughts exactly." Validar smiled at his sister, and the tactician besides him nodded gravely at her. Within the few seconds of their entrance Emmeryn had captivated all that were present in the small tent, and Chrom was once again convinced that she, not their father, should be leading their country. "Have you met my daughter yet? No? Then allow me to present my youngest daughter, Princess Robin of Plegia."

"A pleasure." The young woman said curtly, and Chrom figured she was about his age. "I will also be acting as my father's tactician, as was my mother's role before me."

The Exalt took Emmeryn's hand. "My daughter and heir has played a large part in the finalization of these terms. She will be speaking on my behalf as well." His sister and father shared a small look, and Chrom was slightly taken aback by how easily his father had set aside his pride in favor of his daughter's. Both King Validar and Robin nodded, and like that the introductions were over.  

He sat down left of his father, Emmeryn on his right as his eldest child and heir. She smiled pleasantly at all that were gathered, and implored them to continue.

"Ah yes, milady. We were just finalizing out the last few details." Validar handed her a roll of parchment in which the terms were detailed. A single glance at the treaty proved that it was in essence the one his sister had drafted up in Ylisstol, with only some minor changes here and there. A short paragraph was added at the bottom, but Chrom couldn’t read what it was about. "This very Border Pass will become a neutral area, possessed by neither country. Plegians and Ylisseans are allowed to travel freely over these borders as they see fit, without paying any form of toll. Plegia will pay war reparations of 150 000 G to Ylisse over the course of fifteen years if the terms of the treaty are honored."

"In return, Ylisse will supply manpower and water during that same time span in order to rebuild the homes lost to Plegians due to war and drought. In those fifteen years no drop of Plegian blood can be shed by an Ylissean, and viceversa. Doing so will mean breaking the treaty between our two countries."

"In order to ensure that neither side breaks the agreement, a symbolic act of unification and peace between our two countries will be preformed."

"I do not recall that detail, could you please enlighten me, Father?"  Emmeryn looked curious as to what he might mean.

"It was a suggestion made by King Validar himself, and we both agree would solidify the peace unlike anything else we have drawn up here today. A peace on paper is not the same as peace in the heart of our people, and by doing this.... exchange, our people would become more motivated to keep the peace instead of break it out of vengeance." His father explained, his brow furrowed and an apologetic look in his eyes. "But we have decided that we will not enforce it unless Chrom and Robin agree."

"Agree to what?"Chrom frowned and turned to address his father, but Validar answered for him.

He held his daughters hand, caressing it reassuringly. "An arranged marriage between the two of you.”  

"A marriage?" Emmeryn spoke out of turn, eyes wide and obviously taken aback. Obviously, this had not been part of her plan. "Father, are you sure that this is the right course of action?"

He nodded resolutely. "I believe it is. Put your feelings aside and think only of your people, and you will know it to be true as well." He responded gravely to her, his eyes not leaving Chrom's.

Validar continued. “Had I not sworn to celibacy after the death of my last wife, I would perform the duty myself, but since I have been unable to father a son, my kingdom is without an heir." His face grew grim. "My eldest daughter sadly died during this war, and thus the duty falls upon my youngest one. I will offer her hand in marriage in return for her first born son. This way, our nations will be united in both blood and word for many generations to come."

Chrom couldn't hold his silence any longer. "Gods! You cannot just give her away like that!" He spat out to Validar.

Princess Robin smiled, but it looked forced and pained. "My life is not my own to live as I would like. My life belongs to my people, Prince Chrom, as does yours." She said in even tones, every word calming some of his anger. "And I, too, see the merit of this marriage." Their eyes met and he saw wisdom there far beyond her years.

"You do not have to decide upon this instance." King Validar said pleasantly to the both of them, making Chrom realize that he had been staring at the princess ever since the arrangement was announced. "Tonight, we celebrate the arrival of Prince Chrom and Princess Emmeryn. Take this night to get to know each other. An answer in the morrow will be soon enough."

Before Chrom or his father could say something they would regret, Emmeryn put up her most diplomatic smile. "We thank you for your wisdom and patience." She said warmly and the tension evaporated momentarily. "I do believe the travel has tired me and my brother. Could we resume the rest of the talks tomorrow as well, perhaps?"

"Of course, milady," conceded Validar. He kissed her hand and shook that of her father's, before bowing to him. Chrom almost forgot to bow back before the King left the tent since his eyes were once again locked with the Plegian Princess. Or, his future wife, if their fathers had their way.

 “Chrom." His father's hand on his shoulder steered him out of the treaty tent. "A word, please."

He tried to sound not too angry while the Plegian's were still within earshot. "Fine." 

His father led him to his commander's tent. "Please understand," he said once they were safely inside. "I am aware I have overwhelmed you with this, but I implore that you must agree with the terms, for our people."

"Overwhelmed! That's cutting it short!" Chrom spat back at his father. "That’s cutting it short! I don't know her and now you expect me to marry her!"

"Remember who you are talking to!" His father scolded him like he did when he was little, but now that they were of similar height and strength, any cowering intimidation the Exalt hoped to impose upon his grown son was lost to time. "And yes, I do expect you to put your people above yourself, as every prince should."

"Are there no alternatives?" He barked back in a more respectful tone, meeting his father's commanding gaze without fear. 

The Exalted King sighed wearily. "I could marry Princess Robin, but King Validar and I both agreed that that would be unfair to a young woman in the spring of her life." Chrom found himself nodding along with his father. "A third alternative would be Emmeryn marrying Validar, but I think we can both agree that neither of us want to deprive Ylisse of its heir, nor your sister of children."

The mere thought of marrying his beloved sister to a man twice her age, leagues away from the country she loved so dearly was enough to make Chrom throw up. He steeled himself and addressed a different concern.

"How can we trust this new King to keep his word?"

"We can't." His father admitted tiredly. "But we would have his last beloved daughter. He has no heirs after her, and his line will crumble. He knows that if he would break the treaty, she would be at our mercy."

The thought of harming an innocent woman was enough to set him off again. "So I'm to be married to a hostage? And my future son to become his?" He roared back at his father. Chrom slammed a fist on the old table, making some of the maps and scrolls settled on the worn surface fall on the ground with a loud clatter.

"In a way." His father sunk into his field chair, looking old beyond his 45 years of life. "But you've wanted peace. I'll teach you a harsh lesson boy, paper is no guarantee for peace. Peace is something your people need to keep as well, and most of them can't even read. If this treaty seems temporary, Plegia will not keep the terms. But a royal marriage, celebrated by all of the people across both lands...  _that_  unites people, it means something to them. Much more than a piece of paper ever could."

Chrom sighed. "I understand." And he did. Sully and Vaike and all the others that had died had been willing to give their lives for this moment. Marrying a woman he did not love seemed inconsequential in comparison.

Resignation must have showed on his face, for his father's tone softened considerably. "I will not force you, like my father forced me to marry your mother." He revealed. "But please know that we knew happiness and love together, before she died."

"I know."

His father sighed deeply. "Listen. I know I haven't been the greatest of father's and that I have no right to ask this of you, but in Naga's name, know that you singlehandedly have the ability to end this war forever."

Chrom’s jaw hung wide open in disbelief **.**  "Why are you now so eager to end it! You started it in the first place!" he spat accusingly.

The King's eyes narrowed, and his voice became clipped. "The Grimleal are a dangerous group, threatening more than just Ylisse! I stopped them as I saw fit. But war dragged on and peace was never an option with Gangrel or his father in power. King Validar is the first leader of Plegia to listen to reason. Let us not waste this chance." After a moment of silence he added silently: "I know I haven't been able to give much to the three of you, but at least allow me to give you peace."

"But only if I marry her." Chrom replied stone faced.

 "No, the treaty will be signed." He replied. "But what good is a peace that does not last? Our coffers are drained, our morale is low. They have a shortage of water, but the money to raise an army to take ours by force. If nothing substantial enforces the peace, then why should the famished keep it?"

Hearing the irreparable toll the war took on Ylisse was more than Chrom could bear at the moment."I get it!" Chrom bellowed with more force than he intended, and he saw his father's eyes widen at his sudden outburst. "I wish to be alone. You'll have my answer in the morrow."

"That is all I ask." The Exalt said before he retreated. No doubt joining the festivities that were already taking over the camp. Inevitably, Frederick would expect him to join the feast hold in their honor, but for once Chrom decided that he had enough reason to be excused. There was only one person he wanted to speak, and he had a feeling she wasn't very inclined to party either tonight.

It didn't take him long to find her tent. It was one of obvious Plegian design, made to withstand heat and sand alike. Everyone he asked referred to her quarters as the Tactician’s tent with great pride in their eyes as they said so. How would they have reacted if they had known that he might take their beloved tactician away? If all went according to his father's plan,  she would ride with him to Ylisstol as soon as the treaty and their arrangement was signed.

Chrom tried to keep his voice neutral while he called her out. "Princess Robin, may I speak to you?"

After a moment of silence, and a high female voice rang in the din. "I expected you to seek me out." She said, opening the curtain of her tent to allow him inside. "Please come in."

He came in, meeting her eyes awkwardly while he sat down on the field chair she provided for him. "I'm sorry for the intrusion in your privacy."

The princess waved his worries away. Upon second glance, he noted the lack of fine jewelry and the absence of her tactician's coat. She was obviously at ease in her own quarters. "Don't worry about it. Soon we'll see a lot more of each other anyway. No need for shame or reservations right now." Her tone was friendly, and welcoming. 

But Chrom couldn't simply ease of his awkwardness around her. "How can you be so... okay with all this? Have you known this for a while?"

She averted her eyes to the ground, her long white hair falling slightly over her face as she looked down. "Last week, when my father first suggested a marriage between our two houses, I suspected it would be you and I that would be wed." Then, she met his eyes again, her smile apologetic. "So in other words, I had time to prepare."

"You are smart." He acknowledged. "I was surprised my father called me here, but I had no idea this would be the reason." He had honestly thought his father just wanted him as a protector for his sister, not to be married.

"Thank you, my prince." She accepted with grace, offering him some dried pasty.

He cringed at the mention of his title. "Please, don't call me prince. If we're to be married, call me Chrom."

For the first time since he'd met her, her eyes lit up and her smile seemed true. "Then, extend the courtesy and call me by my first name, Robin."

"I must ask you, Robin." Chrom continued on a more serious note. "Why can't you become queen after your father?"

Robin sighed, and took a sip of her water. "Plegia is a Theocracy with an Agnatic Succession law. Of the three noble houses who are said to be descendants of the God Grima, a King is traditionally chosen to rule. However, with the death of Gangrel and the Black Plague that wiped out most of the south two years ago, only our Royal house remains."

"But can't you just change those laws in this time of need?" He reasoned. "You have the respect of all Plegians I have encountered so far. It wouldn't be such a stretch to see you on the throne."

"Were times more stable, maybe." Robin explained, her eyes never leaving his. He could see the dark circles beneath her eyes, and he wondered exactly how large her part in the peace treaty had been. "But my country is in ruin and now is not the time to mess with traditions, so to say. My people need stability, and I will provide it for them whatever way possible. Just like my sister did before the war killed her." The mention of her departed sister left both of them quiet for a moment.

"Even if that means marrying me and leaving your people behind?" Chrom whispered carefully, seeing the pain in her eyes. "Me, the prince of the people who killed your sister?"

She closed her eyes and was quiet for a moment. Then, she spoke resolutely. "My sister was killed by the war. Both Plegia and Ylisse are part of that war and thus responsible for the casualties. The blame does not solely go to one side." After a moment’s pause she added softly. "But yes, even that."

He wondered if he could have had the same strength if it had been Emmeryn or Lissa that had been killed, and his admiration for the young woman in front of him grew tenfold when he realized he wouldn't. "Then I will do that too." 

He reached for her hand, and they shared one lingering glance. Her brown eyes were full of strength and determination, and he vowed silently to be worthy of that, if nothing else.

A small noise outside of the tent startled them both out of their trance. Robin giggled slightly. "Good, because at this point I believe the entire camp is already convinced that we are having some sort of affair."

"I've arrived mere hours ago!" Chrom exclaimed in shock.

Behind the hand covering her mouth, he spied an amused smile. "And yet you wandered into my tent without a chaperon and without a reason of which they know. Soldiers like to gossip, especially about the people above them."

"Oh Gods!" Chrom cursed his impulsiveness. "Have I dishonored you?"

"At ease!" She giggled even louder this time "As I told you, I expected you to come and planned ahead of it. I'm sure my handmaidens will be sure to spin a lovely tale of our love to all who want to hear it. A prince and a princess falling in love during the war, bringing peace so they could marry straight after? Something of the sorts."

He did not share her amusement at their situation. "If only that were the truth."

"Aye." She replied soberly, the smile gone from her face. "But this is not a marriage for us, but for our people. A lovely fairytale works much better than the facts. They are for us to know and for us to carry their weight."

"I think you and I will be able to do this." He declared resolutely, and he wondered if he was trying to convince her or himself.

"So do I, Chrom." He marveled how easily his name rolled of her tongue. "I don't know you. And yet, we are similar. Our people before ourselves, our duty before our hearts. If not love, I believe we will at least find friendship."

Chrom grinned confidently for the first time that evening **,** and an understanding between the two was reached. "I'm glad, for I truly wish peace."

"Then let that thought bind us." She took his hand in hers. They were small, but calloused. Thoughts of a swords and lances crossed his mind before he forcefully pushed them out. Now was not the time for games. Robin met his eyes. "We have no choice, do we?"

He suppressed a sigh as the weight of their decision fell on him "No, not really." He admitted a truth they both knew.

"Then we shall tell our fathers the 'good news' in the morning," she stated and held his hand tightly, her eyes fixed upon the brand on his arm. "But for now, let's fuel the rumors and get to know each other informally before a chaperon hovers over every meeting."

Like clockwork, Frederick's voice calls from the outside of the tactician's tent. "My apologies Princess Plegia, but Princess Emmeryn told Milord was with you last. Could you be so kind and send me in his direction?"

They share a conspiratorial look, and Chrom realized that their little scheme begins right now. With one deep sigh, he raised his voice. "I'm here Frederick."

"Milord?" The Great Knight's surprise was palpable. "Permission to enter?"

"Granted." Robin says, and the curtain gives way for his friend and bodyguard. 

He felt Frederick’s eyes burn on their clasped hands, but his friend says nothing about it. "Milord, if I may ask, what are you doing in a lady's tent when there is a feast thrown in your honor?"

"No worries Frederick," Chrom tries to smile as reassuringly, channeling Emmeryn's measured diplomacy as he has been able to observe through his lifetime. "We were just planning to join you."

When they leave the tent and enter the rest of their lives, her hand is still in hers. He can feel her fingers tremble and sweat, nervous yet determined to follow this through.

They sit next to each other during the festivities, steadily avoiding Frederick and Emmeryn's questioning stares. He could see that his father is pleased that he got his way, but Chrom tried to swallow the resentment that is boiling in his gut. Forcefully he reminds himself that he isn't doing this for his father, he's doing this for his people, and for Emmeryn, so she may reign in peace once her time to rule comes. 

When the sun sets and the people are satisfied, Robin signals something to her father. King Validar smiles happily, and his own father looks pleased as well. 

"Dear Plegians and Ylisseans, if I may have your undivided attention." His father begins, and after years of following his command, his soldiers know better than to disobey a direct order. "Today is a special day, for it is a day which heralds an era of peace."

A piece of parchment is brought forward by a servant, and Chrom realized what the signal Robin gave indicated:  _Agreement_. Validar stood beside his father and each of them signed the paper. They shake each other's hands, and just like that, years of strife are over.

The relief of the crowd is strong. People embrace each other, praising Naga and Grima alike and Chrom knows that he did the right thing. 

"Let us leave the past in the past, and strive towards a better future, together!" Validar declares, and he is met with unanimous cheers. "Praise Grima!" His father's eyes narrow ever so slightly at those words.

"But, I have another joyous announcement to make." The Plegian King continues with an accomplished smile on his face. "I am also overjoyed to announce the upcoming marriage between my daughter, Princess Robin of Plegia, and Prince Chrom of Ylisse!"

Chrom tries to smile while all eyes are on them, and he feels Robin grab for his hand in a sign of unity. He hopes the illusion works like she planned, and tries to ignore his sister's and friends' looks. In an act of impulsiveness, he kisses her cheek. At that, the crowd cheers, catcalling and shouting. Robin is as red as Cordelia's hair, but she's smiling so Chrom imagines that he did  _something_  right at the very least.

His father signals for the fires to be lit and for the musicians to start playing. The dancing starts immediately, and for once these border lands are a symbol of friendship and peace. Chrom wonders how long this euphoria will last.

He sees Frederick and Emmeryn approach, shock and concern written all over their faces and he never felt like running quite like that moment. He pulls Robin towards the dancing people in an attempt to escape and spins her around in something that must resemble dancing. Out of the corner of his eyes he catches Sumia's eyes, and he swears he can see tears brimming there. It hurts more than he expected it to.

Robin pulls him closer to her, taking the lead. "Don't think of them," she whispers in his ear. "Tonight, we dance. Tomorrow, we ride towards Ylisstol. That will be soon enough to face our future." He meets her eyes and he sees hurt as well. Did she have someone she loved? But his thoughts are drowned by strong arms that demand to dance and to forget, and just for tonight, Chrom gives in.


	2. Ylisstol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road to Ylisstol is dark and full of hesitation. (Warning, this chapter has some NSFW content at the end.) This chapter is now Beta'd by mitsurukirijoed. Thank you very much for all your hard work!

As soon as the sun dawns in the east, the two armies start packing, ready to march at the word of their King. After two years of fighting in the war, Chrom is more than capable of packing up his own things. Frederick hovered over him all night and most of the following morning with questioning eyes. Only his good manners and sense of duty kept him from asking the questions he so direly wanted to ask. For once, Chrom was glad that his friend was a sucker for decorum. It gave him time to settle the fact that he was getting married in his own mind.

He wasn’t so lucky in avoiding his sister. She cornered him as soon as he headed off to sleep, and she knew him long enough to know when he was faking it. He explained their decision to her, and Emmeryn had held on to him for a long time after that. He was taller than her now, but he would always feel like a child in her arms. When they parted, he didn't mention the wet tear streaks on her face, and she refrained from asking any more questions. He hadn't told her that if he hadn't agreed to the arrangement she might have been the one to marry, a secret he intended to take to the grave. Neither of them slept well that night, and it had nothing to do with the pallets they slept on. But at the break of dawn the reality of the situation came to him, and panic started to rise in his stomach. What seemed like a sensible, selfless decision yesterday, felt like a mistake today. He'd spoken to Robin twice, and danced for a short hour with her. It was hardly the foundation of a happy marriage.

Chrom steeled himself while he packed the last of his things. Their marriage didn't need to be happy for it to work. It needed to look happy, and he'd been a prince for long enough to be able to play that game. 

When the two armies parted and started marching homebound, the general mood was still one of joy. There was a short ceremony where Robin officially thanked all Plegians for their service, and announced that she would be leaving with her future husband. His father gestured him to take her hand next, and he lead her away from the gathered crowd with shift steps. Her eyes lingered on her people for one short minute, after which she turned towards him and followed him, her eyes closed.

As their saddled horses were handed to them, Chrom was reminded once more that he knew nothing of this woman other than a few tiny details about her family and country. Silently, not knowing what to say to each other, they joined the marching parade of soldiers. 

It was a long journey to Ylisse, first through the desert, and later through lush Ylissean plains and forests. Everywhere went, they were greeted as heroes, and Chrom envied his sister’s joyous smile. Even Frederick couldn't stop beaming. For them, it was over. It was easy to join the happiness of his people, but in the depths of his mind he knew that for him and the woman riding besides him, it was far from over.

They talked sparsely during the five day travel to Ylistol. Once they entered familiar grounds, he told Robin about the towns they crossed and the woods he had played in as a child. She nodded and listened attentively, but he could hear in her politely worded replies that she was just as lost in this situation as he was.

The feeling of dread only intensified once the great walls of the capital came into sight. It was truly a magnificent city, mostly untouched by war. Surely, some repairs due to aging had to be made, but now that the war was over and the workforce could be applied, Ylisse could mend. 

Robin’s only sign of anxiety were the whites of her knuckles against where she gripped her horse’s reigns. Her face was polite and pleasant, and she smiled at all that had lined up to see the parade of soldiers and royals marching to the castle. 

"I think our story has traveled ahead of us.”She inclined her heads towards him, answering his unspoken question.

Chrom was surprised that she was able to read his thoughts so easily. "Why do you think so?"

A sad smile appeared on her face. "I don't think they would be cheering me on if it hadn't." 

He couldn't fault her logic there. During the remainder of the trip home, he paid more attention to the cries of the public, and noticed quickly that true to Robin’s word, his name and Robin's were often heard together. His father and King Validar had been right: the people were surprisingly eager to forget their past grievances as long as they could replace it with something happier. The people of Ylisstol suffered less than the lands closer to Plegia, which had been a battlefield for decades. These people would be welcoming his bride with less jubilance, as would the court he feared. 

And even back home, the war was not forgotten. Along the many flowers, a few rocks were thrown at the Plegian Princess. None of them hit her, but one landed on her horse which made the beast stagger. She quickly regained control of the animal and calmed it down, but Chrom immediately signaled a Pegasus knight to flank her on the side where he could not. They were traditionally the protectors of the royal house and they might as well start acting like she was part of it as of today. 

When they reached the castle, Chrom immediately spotted Lissa waiting at the gates. Even from a distance he can see the tears of joy in her eyes as if she hadn’t seen her family in years. While the army quickly marches on to the barracks, he leads Robin towards his youngest sister, Emmeryn and Frederick in tow. Lissa all but tackles them, telling them how worried she had been for them. Once she lets go, he notices her gaze stray to Robin. He whispers 'later' into her ear, but the look Emmeryn gives him means that it will be sooner rather than later.

As a sign of childish deviance, Chrom takes Robin's hand and pulls her along with her into the castle that has been his home for all of his life. It’s hard to miss that she is enraptured with the beauty of the halls and an unexpected burst of pride ignites from within him. 

It doesn't take long for the rest to catch up with them. "As I was saying before Chrom decided to leave, I suggest that we have a cup of tea together in my rooms so Chrom can explain the situation properly to the two of you, before we are swept away once more by our duties." Emmeryn states sweetly, her arm still around her younger sister’s shoulder.

"The situation?" Lissa echoes, confused. Her eyes dart between her siblings until her gaze finally settles on Robin. 

"Here is not the place." Robin agrees, and he finds himself nodding along. Emmeryn quickly leads them to her private study. The desks and shelves are still littered with books or archive folders about Plegia and past treaties. She apologizes for the mess, but it reminds him of all the effort she put in to make this peace work. In a way, it strengthens his resolve. 

"Sooooo...." Lissa begins. "Care to tell me who she is and what is going on here?"

"My name is Robin, Princess of Plegia." She quickly introduces herself, and Lissa's eyes widen momentarily at the mention of her title.

"You're from Plegia?" Lissa blurted out, and Robin nodded politely. "Does that mean that the rumors are true?" Her eyes bore holes into Chrom's, and he swallows deeply.

"Depends on which rumors you're speaking of." He admits carefully. "But if it is about our marriage, then you're right."

Lissa is silent for three seconds, and then bellows: "What!” Her eyes are as wide as saucers, and Chrom is sure at least half the castle must have heard her outburst. "But you hardly know each other! When I first heard people talk of you eloping with some secret love, I knew it couldn't be true." She looks at him accusingly, and he shakes his head.

Before she can continue, Frederick speaks up. "With all due respect milord, but I thought the same thing when I heard those ridiculous rumors. And yet your marriage was announced the same night." The distaste is evident in his voice.

Robin answers before he has a chance to. "That is a tale we will neither confirm nor deny. Let the people believe what they want to, as long as it keeps them content," she intones diplomatically.

"But I suppose that as family, you should know the truth," Chrom adds quickly, looking at Frederick in particular. The man is too taken aback to disagree. 

"It is an arranged marriage, as you had probably guessed Sir Knight," Robin says, her voice much softer than before. Her eyes stay on her hands, folded in her lap. "Our fathers deemed it necessary to solidify the peace with a symbolic gesture, and we agreed."

"You, agreeing with father? That would be a first." Lissa spats out. "Whenever you two are together, all I can see are two blue haired idiots arguing over nothing!"

"Hey, I'm not unreasonable!" he shouts back before he thinks about his words. "And this isn't about something stupid like what weapon I fight with or which division I join. This is not about us. King Validar and father were right, what is peace worth if it doesn’t last?" When he is done speaking, Lissa and Frederick regard him sadly, but there is a hint of pride in Emmeryn's eyes that makes his chest swell.

"But what about you, Chrom?" Lissa whispers forlornly. "You can't marry someone you just met, right?"

He takes his sister’s hand and looks her deep in the eyes. "Didn't we stay up at night whenever a missive of father came, vowing to end the war at whatever cost so our parents would come home?"

Lissa shakes her head violently. "That was years ago!"

She isn't wrong. "I meant those words and I know Emmeryn did as well." He says with more conviction then he feels. He looks at his sister and they share a short glance. Then Emmeryn lowers her eyes and nods. "If this is what I have to do to make peace last, than this is what I will do." Chrom continues.

Lissa looks at the two of them as if they had gone mad, and then suddenly turns to the other princess in the room. "And you, won't you be unhappy so far from your country?"

A flash of pain passes over her visage, but it is gone as quickly as it came. "I'll miss my father and friends, surely," she says eventually. "But the ones I was closest with fell victim to this war and I, too, vowed upon their graves to end it." Her words are new to Emmeryn as well, and she can see the empathy forming in her eyes.

Lissa was about to raise her voice again in protest, but was interrupted when a servant knocked on the door. "Come in?" Emmeryn answered, and the woman swiftly entered and told his sister that her father was looking for her. She sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid we'll have to get to know each other at a later time."  

Robin nodded at his sister, and Emmeryn shot her a warm smile.

"The lady Robin was also requested to come, so she could be shown her quarters," the servant said politely, but her eyes betrayed how excited she was to be the one to catch the exalted siblings and the future bride together. Chrom was keenly aware that by nightfall, the entire castle would know of what had transpired in this study.

His soon-to-be-bride looked somewhat annoyed as well, but quickly got up and followed Emmeryn and the maid out. The last thing he saw of her was Emmeryn whispering something into her ear, which made the young woman blush ever so slightly. 

He hoped that he would also be allowed to leave, but he was not so lucky. Lissa had a thousand questions, ranging from what kind of person Robin was to what he would wear at his wedding. All things considered she was taking this a lot better than he was, but then again Lissa had always been adaptive. By the time she let him go to wash himself up and crash down on his bed the sun had already set.

He scarcely saw Robin after that. True to her word, whenever they did see each other there were always so many people present as well that they could never really talk and get to know each other. The first month after the treaty passed faster than he would have liked, but it was hard not to be swept away by the general cheer that was going around. The division with whom he had fought for the past two years, nicknamed the Shepherds, organized parties what seemed like every other night, and he got drunk more often than he would like to admit. But as the full moon came closer and closer, cheer made way for anxiety.

At the end of the national month of celebration, life would continue, and a royal wedding would be held. Frederick did everything within his power to give Chrom a crash course on how to act in front of a lady, but formal etiquette had never been his forte. Nevertheless, his friend was determined to make up for what he called 'his own oversight', which was a nice way of saying that he hadn't expected Chrom to marry for a very long time. His dedication went a little bit too far when he awkwardly tried to explain how to handle the intimate part of the wedding night, blushing throughout the entire speech. 

Eventually Chrom laughed jovially and freed Frederick from his misery, his face as red as Cordelia's hair, and informed his friend that Gregor and Vaike had been very thorough in his sexual education. With a pang of loss he remembered the many times his friend had bragged about his sexual exploits after drinking a little bit too much. He wondered what Vaike would have to say about his marriage. Gregor himself was very eager to give love advice to all who would listen, and many nights the man had insisted to tell his tales to all 'the young folk' as he would call them. He remembered Sumia's face, as red as a tomato, and her sly glances in his direction. And Sully's slap on his back and suggestive winking whenever he became too prudish for her tastes. Their names tasted bitter on his tongue and he put them out of his mind. The peace had been bought, but the prize had been steep. 

Robin was not present for dinner the night before the wedding because apparently, seeing the bride before the ceremony was bad luck. Chrom rolled his eyes at that, and wondered how many more rules of romance they were breaking. Nevertheless, he let them have their way. He would have liked to speak with her, but to use his father's words: 'they had enough time for that after the wedding.'

He hadn't seen much of his father either during the past month. The man had been reacquainting himself with his home and position, overseeing repairs and requests whenever he could. Chrom was surprised when he was invited to his father's study after dinner. Lissa hadn't lied when she claimed that he and his father didn't see eye to eye. When he was younger he had resented him for leaving the three of them. As Chrom grew older, that resentment festered and widened, digging deeper with every friend he buried during the war. He feared not even a decade of peace could bridge their differences. 

His father had little to say to him, as usual. His words were brisk and clear. "I'm proud that you are willing to do this for your country," he said, not meeting Chrom's eyes. Instead he let them trace the border lines on a drawn map of the continent that was framed above his desk. 

"Of course." Chrom replied awkwardly, eyeing the door.

"Your mother was younger than you when we married." His father stated suddenly. "Emmeryn was born before she turned twenty."

Chrom nodded, he had done the math before. Her birthday was clearly engraved next to the day of her death on the tombstone that marked her grave. 

The Exalt took his silence for a sign to continue. "When she was born, I saw your mother in a new light. I had been fighting this war since I was sixteen and my mother died at the hands of those _infidels_." He spat that last words out passionately, and Chrom was reminded why the war lasted as long as it did. "Even now, long after your mother has passed away from this world, may Naga have her soul, whenever I see your sister's face I am remembered of the love we shared that day."

As a child, Lissa had always complained that their father loved Emmeryn most. Upon seeing the tender look in the Exalt's eyes, Chrom wondered if she hadn't been right all along. When his father finally met his eyes, there was an uncharacteristic vulnerability in his tone. "As your father, I am supposed to impart some sort of wisdom to you on the night before your wedding. But the truth is, Elissa has been gone for so long that I find myself forgetting what it was like to be married to her." A dry humorless chuckle escaped his lips. "And for the life of me I can't remember what my father said to me the night before my own wedding in this very study."

Chrom honestly didn't know how to reply to that. "What I'm trying to say is, I suppose." His father resolved with more strength, finally meeting his son's eyes. A struggle was evident there, and Chrom forced himself not to look away. "I want you to have the Falchion. The one thing I remember is my father giving it to me on the night before my wedding, and if nothing else, I will do the same." He gestured to the sheathed sword resting on the edge of the desk, and Chrom wondered why he hadn’t noticed it’s absence from his father’s side before.

He took the blade of his ancestors with quiet admiration. He held it before, once or twice, when his father had wanted to test if the blade deemed him worthy. The log was cut in two clean halves, and he remembered how proud he had felt at that moment. But he had been a child back then, barely thirteen, and the sword felt heavy and uncomfortable in his hands. Now, as a man grown, the weight felt familiar and just  _right_. He swung the ancient sword once more, reveling in the feeling of things falling into place, and put it back in its sheath.  

He met his father's eyes, his mouth ajar and his tongue dry. What does one say when presented with such a gift? 

 "Oh, and Chrom." His father looked to the side, as if to hesitate what to say. "I meant what I said earlier.  I am… No, it is befitting of your station as a prince to following this through. I can tell you I was a lot less gracious about it back in my days."

Chrom was at a loss for words. His father's eyes were searching for something on his face, but whatever it was, Chrom couldn't give it. The man was trying to build bridges a little bit too late, and the abandoned five-year-old within him told him to throw a tantrum. Instead his body went stiff and he muttered an insincere "Thank you, father."

He pretended not to see the hurt in his father's eyes. "You are dismissed." He said after a moment of silence, and Chrom had never been so glad to follow his father's orders.

Sleep didn't come to him that night. The fact that this was probably the last night he would spend alone in his childhood bedroom made him anxious. By the time he finally began to feel drowsy, the first rays of light shined through his curtains and two firm knocks on his door ended any hope for whatever sleep he might have had.

"Psssttt! Chrom!" A familiar voice called from behind the closed door. "It's me!"

Chrom sighed deeply. "Come in Lissa."

"You're not even dressed yet!" She exclaimed indignantly when she opened his door to find him laying in bed.

He wanted to protest that the sun was barely up yet, but Frederick was ahead of him and reminded Lissa that he was the one holding Chrom's official uniform. After that, time seemed to speed up. While Lissa fussed that her dress didn't match his uniform, two servants and Frederick saw to it that he was dressed immaculately. By the time they were done fussing over his hair, he was ready to take a sword and slice through at least four practice dummies. 

The Falchion came to his mind. Shrugging off the hands trying and failing to fix his hair, he took the sword from where he had left it the previous night. 

Chrom felt rather than saw Lissa's eyes grow large in astonishment. "How did you get that?"

"Father gave it to me." Chrom said as he turned towards her. "As a wedding gift."

"It's the least he could do." Lissa muttered darkly and Chrom was swiftly reminded of last night's conversation.

"A nice symbol from the Exalt." Frederick remarked, examining the blade. "You end this war with the sword that started it."

He hadn't thought of it that way. "Well if you put it like that, it almost sounds poetic." The blade’s weight settled some of his antsy nerves, as if Naga herself descended from the heavens to calm him.The thought that generations before him had wielded this very sword made what he was about to do less important in the grand scheme of events.

He fastened the sheath to his belt and the weight settled comfortably at his side. "Are you planning on wearing in during your wedding?" Lissa questioned, not even bothering to hide her distaste.

He shot her a firm look. "It's one of the symbols of our family, so I might as well." Frederick nodded in agreement.

"It's time." He said, and Chrom sighed.

"Where is Emmeryn, anyway?" He wondered out loud. "It is not like her to be late."

Frederick smiled gently. "She is with your bride-to-be, who no longer has siblings to prepare her for the wedding."

Chrom tried to suppress the sudden wave of guilt that hit him. "Ah, yes." He felt like there was more to it, but the nerves in his stomach were too distracting to ponder more on it. 

A servant knocked on the door, signaling that it was time to leave. "Are you ready?" His friend and protector asked sincerely.

Chrom met his eyes, and something of an understanding passed between them. "As ready as I'll ever be, I reckon."

With that resolution in mind, Chrom stepped outside his rooms and allowed Frederick and Lissa to lead him to the courtyard. For once, the normally quiet gardens were filled with people of all regions. He recognized a few former Shepherds among them, raising their thumbs up at him. Others were nobles from both Ylisse and Plegia, major religious leaders and a few people he couldn’t place. He took one last deep breath and walked toward the center, where the tall, golden statue of Naga stood proudly found. His father and a High Priest of Naga waited there for him in front of it.

The sun was still low and the moon could still hung in the sky, a traditional setting for an Ylissean Royal wedding. His father had ensured that the festival of their marriage as impressive as possible, honoring his intention for this to be a marriage for the people. But all splendor was lost on Chrom, who waited for Robin to arrive with trembling knees. When the bride arrived, clad in a beautiful white and blue dress, the crowd went wild. Emmeryn walked behind her and King Validar flanked her side.

Their eyes met momentarily through the veil, and he started sweating.  _This was it,_  he thought as the Plegian King offered Robin's hand to him.  _This is really happening!_  His heart was racing so hard that he could not hear a word of what the priest said. There was something about until death did them part, and in sickness and in health, but if he had spoken complete nonsense it would have been allt he same to Chrom. When the crowd fell silent and the High Priest looked at him expectantly, he uttered out a quick "I do" before he could even think about it.

Robin's hand trembled within his own in his when she spoke her own vows, of which absolutely nothing registered in his mind either. When she was done she faced him and gave him a short peck on the lips through her veil. Before he could think too much about it, she guided them towards the statue of Naga and together they prayed for a happy marriage. Despite the fact that Robin was not a worshiper of the goddess, she stumbled on the words less than he did. When they were done, the Priest tied a dark blue ribbon around their clasped hands while muttering an ancient blessing. Validar spoke a few words, and then the crowd roared in approval when his father welcomed the Prince and Princess of Ylisse and Plegia into the royal family. 

  1.  Just like that. Mere minutes of ceremony, a lifetime to spend together. Chrom felt like he was caught in a haze, merely walking through the steps of the rest of the ceremony while the world cheered them on. He held Robin's hand tightly while they waved to their people gathered on the square in front of the giant balcony. 



Robin stopped trembling, but her smile was as forced as his. She was his wife now, it dawned on him, and yet he still knew as little of her as he did on the day they met. 

The rest of the day was spend with accepting gifts from both noble houses and common institutions like guilds. Each gift was lovelier than the last, and people seemed generally pleased by the love story that was woven in front of their eyes. Robin and Chrom accepted  their lot with more grace and patience than either of them would have been able to imagine beforehand. Emmeryn gave them both a few wise words and matching necklaces. The Shepherds gifted Robin a Ylissean Grandmaster Tactician's robe, and her genuine smile was one of the highlights of the day.

But as soon as the night set in, an ingot of dread settled into Chrom’s stomach. Before he could properly prepare himself a parade of fancy-clad nobles led him and his new bride to their new shared chambers. Had he been a king or a crown prince, his bride would have had her own quarters. But since he was merely a prince they would have to share their private bedroom and living room together. Other than two studies and a washing room there was a spacious empty room that was meant to be a nursery.

His younger sister, slightly inebriated to say the very least, was one of the many to forsake tradition and wink profusely at them. Chrom tried to ignore their implications and preformed his second to last duty of the day. In one movement he swept Robin off her feet and carried her into the room. She was lighter than he had expected, and he tried to put her gently back on her feet. The High Priest gave his final blessing and his father closed the door behind the new couple with a soft thud. 

For a second, both of them were lost in the overwhelming quiet after such a chaotic day. Robin sat down on the bed and started working on undoing her intricate braids.

Chrom frowned at the implication."We don't have to do this," he said earnestly.

"We do," she said impassively, and began to take off her wedding jewelry

He put his hand over hers to stall her. "We could wait."

"We would wait forever," she shrugged it off and continued to unlace her dress. "Let's not over-complicate this Chrom. Consummation is part of the marriage."

"Yes, but..." He hesitated, torn between his duty and what he felt was right. "I don't want to force you."

She halted, and cocked her head slightly. "Oh Chrom." Her voice was soft, gentle. "You're too kind to be born a prince, did someone ever tell you that?"

Chrom thought that was the strangest thing to tell him right before they were forced to have sex for the first time.

She kissed him shyly on his cheek. "Stop worrying about me,” Robin declared resolutely. "And start enjoying this a little bit. And while you're at it, help me out of this dress, it’s been bothering me all day."

It was only then that he realized that for a small woman known for wearing cloaks and pants, a heavy dress like hers must have been very uncomfortable. "Of course!"

He helped her slide out of her dress and with ease the lacing in the back came undone. The garment fell to the ground and Robin stepped out of it, seemingly unashamed at her state of undress.

Chrom blushed a furious red, and Robin giggled. Her smallclothes were white and revealing, but she didn't seem to mind. Instead, she took his hand like he held hers during the ceremony, and led him towards their bed.

His hands slid carefully over her body, exploring her with caution. Her smile was challenging, but the look in her eyes betrayed the front she was putting up. Underneath, Robin was just as nervous as he was. Had they been in love, he imagined this would be different. He would naturally gravitate towards her and the night would be as great as his inebriated comrades always described. Instead, he forced himself to kiss her. She was willing enough, replying with more finesse than him, and the very sight of her bared body was enough to make him hard.

But the way she undressed him was too rehearsed, too forced to be natural. He felt her hand tremble against his and almost called it off again. But Robin was right. This was part of their duty, and he would perform it as well.

Her lips on his neck were enough to keep him aroused. When she scraped her teeth against the nape of his neck, he was able to forget his complaints for a moment. That was enough time for his bride to undo him of his pants in a few swift motions. She avoided the sight of his manhood by staring him straight in the eyes and Chrom was surprised by the intensity of her gaze. 

The realization that Robin was a gorgeous woman dawned on him in the back of his mind as he undid the bindings of her breasts. Softly, he kissed both of them. A soft grasp of wonder escaped Robin's lips. Chrom smiled nervously. He kissed her lips one more time, and positioned himself.

With effort and many painful gasps from Robin he managed to push himself in her. A single tear fell from her eyes as he reveled in the tightness of her being. It did feel great, but one look down to his bride was enough to overflow his senses with guilt. She kissed him once more, and they shared a look of grim dedication, a strange offset to the pleasure that he felt in his gut. Determined to finish this as soon as possible, he started thrusting softly in to her.

The tension within him built quickly and Robin put her arms around his broad shoulders as he pushed into her deeper and deeper. Her arms felt warm and welcoming, and for a second, it didn’t feel like something they were forced to do. It was brief, but long enough for the pleasure to overtake him. He gasped loudly and released himself inside of her, squinting his eyes until he saw stars. When he was done, Chrom fell on his new bride, more tired than he had known. For a second or five, all he knew was bliss.

He rolled off her, allowing his seed to spill out of her along with some blood. "Are you okay?" he asked her while watching her clean herself. 

Robin handed him a rag to do the same. "I'm fine," she said quietly, but he still heard a hint of tears in her voice. Chrom's heart broke right there and then. "No really, you were gentle and quick. I couldn't have asked for more." She added quickly when she saw the look on his face.

"You could have asked for pleasure." He said very quietly, pulling her towards him. “Or a marriage to someone you loved.”

She stiffened and he could see her eyes grew sad again. Despite her reaction, Chrom let his tired eyes close and pulled her flush against his chest. Robin sobbed softly before she bottled it up again and her breathing evened out slowly. If she was awake to feel his tears fall on her hair, she made no mention of it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I present you, the least romantic virginal sex I have ever written. Remember, one of the genres is tragedy? This is one of the reasons why. I didn’t want it to suddenly all make sense so they fall in love. It’s still not what they want, and arranged marriages like this aren’t exactly fun. Next chapter will be nicer though, I swear! Hail Grima!


	3. Plegia Castle Courtyard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrom, Robin and a small entourage set off for Plegia, and they learn something about each other along the way. Chapter now beta'd!

 

They had been married little more than a month by the time they arrived at the Plegian Capital. His father had not been joking when he had said that the marriage was meant for the people. On the road towards the castle, they visited villages and cities alike, gifting water and food to those who needed. At some places they were merely treated with minimal respect, more afraid of the sword he carried than anything else. The scars of war were too deep here, and he had always been the spitting image of his father in his younger years.

The journey was long and could have been cut short by at least a week or two if they had chosen to travel lightly or on the back of Pegasus knights. But Robin had insisted that this slow trek through the desert was the way of her people, and since it was her country they would get married at this time, he chose not to question her. Nevertheless, the days were hot, the nights were cold and the wind was harsh. Everything reminded him of the war, except that he made this journey with strangers instead of friends.

The guards were cordial to him, but none of them were very interested to converse with the Ylissean prince. Robin was not much different. They spent their entire march through the desert side by side, but they had run out of things to talk about two days into the journey.

They never stopped anywhere for more than a night, with the exception of one city that was etched into the mountain. Here, Robin performed a ritual for Grima at the hottest moment of the day, wearing very little. She had never looked less like a princess, and yet the way she offered the fresh food and water to the gods inspired the masses like any monarch would. When she gestured him, he simply followed her lead as well as he could. His father would probably flay him if he ever found out that he had prayed in front of an altar of Grima, and that very thought made Chrom all too eager to do it. The villagers who had watched and prayed with them embraced them after they were done, all cold looks and hard stares forgotten. Robin was lifted high up in the air, as if her feet were too sacred to touch the ground. Some were crying, others were laughing and embracing their loved ones. It seemed to have little to do with her, and yet there could be no mistake who had caused such joy.

At night, in the privacy of their own tent, he voiced his thoughts to her. "What exactly did we do today?" She turned towards him, a change from her usual sleeping position, which kept her as far away from him as possible. 

The only light came from the flickering campfire outside and he could barely make out her face in the dark. And yet, he saw her smile. "You don't know much about the Plegian religion, do you?"

His father had lectured a great deal about the heathens, but Chrom decided that faKing innocence would probably be more polite. "Not really. Grima is the god of destruction while Naga is the goddess of creation."

Robin sighed deeply. "That is the essence of it, yes."

He was surprised that she admitted it so easily. "Then, if you believe that too, why do your people worship Grima?"

"Worshiping is probably not the right word. Rather, we beg for his mercy." Despite the dark, he could see her role her eyes and he flushed red in shame for his ignorance. "Have you ever been to our capital?"

"No," he admitted.

"Well, it is built under the skull of Grima," Robin explained patiently, her hands drawing circles on their shared pallet. "It has always been a painful reminder that we only live by his mercy. Should he decide to murder us all, then we are doomed. So we don't ask him for favors, we beg him to spare us."

The blood she had shed during the ritual suddenly came to mind. "So that is what you did today?"

"Yes. I offered the best food we had to Grima in return for his mercy upon the village." 

"So all those people, they were cheering because you bought their safety?" He whispered, inching closer to her. "Couldn't they have done so themselves?"

She offered him her hand, ungloved for once. "You must have seen the mark on my hand when I performed the sacrifice." Even in the relative darkness of the night, he could see the faint dark outlines on the back of her hand. "It is Grima's equivalent of your own brand. This marks me as a descendant of Grima, or so would our tradition let us believe. And because of that, they believe that when I lead the sacrifice, their village will be safe. Plegians believe that we of Grima's blood can speak for him." She whispered back while he softly traced the pattern of Grima's mark.

Chrom noticed that her voice lacked conviction or reverence. "But you don't believe that?"

 "I've certainly never heard his voice, nor felt any of his blessing or wrath." She pulled her hand back hastily whispering back quickly as if she was ashamed of her own words. "But it brings people great relief and happiness, and so I will do my duty."

He wondered how many things she did out of a sense of duty. "My father surely never told me this." he admitted in a low voice. "He told us that Plegia wants to revive the Grima and destroy all life.”

"I'm not surprised. Your father is quite the fanatic." It came out harsher than she must have intended. "But there are fanatics of Grima as well, and they believe that the world can only be reborn out of the flames of this one. I'm sure your father merely confused the entire population with the small few who believe such fatalistic nonsense." She recovered quickly, but Chrom knew enough of what her true feeling were.

"But..."

She interrupted him before he could ask her another question. "Another time, okay?" She begged, faKing a yawn. "I'm tired and we have a long travel ahead of us tomorrow."

He nodded wordlessly and she turned away from him again. He pulled his blanked closer to his body, suddenly overwhelmed by the cold of the desert nights.

The next day, they rose with the sun, packed up their camp and continued to the capital. Chrom tried to keep her words in mind as they visited other villages. **Something was sacrificed in every village and they were always celebrated for it.** Most of the time it was food, not exactly a commodity in the desert. And yet, he knew that the villagers would let it rot away in the harsh sunlight, believing the decay was a sign of Grima's acceptance. 

And so, by the time they reached the capital for the second part of their marriage, he was much more prepared than the first time. Robin had not lied when she had spoken of the skull of Grima, because certainly the carcass that littered the holiest grounds of Plegia could belong to nothing short of a god.

Those who looked at him didn't do so kindly, but after the month long trek through the sand dunes on horses that could barely move Chrom was immune to their looks. There were no flowers or rocks when they entered the city, merely a crowd hurrying to gather around the enormous rib cage. It was there where their journey would be ended and they would be married in front of the Plegian people.

He didn't have Lissa's or Frederick's guidance this time around, but he did have Robin. Servants allowed them barely a sip of water before they were cleaned and dressed in little more than a few purple and black cloths. When the sun was highest in the sky, they were led to the altar at the center of the gathered crowd under the carcass of the fell dragon. 

Validar himself presided the ceremony, calling upon Grima to witness the binding of his blood and have mercy upon their souls. In the scorching sun, Chrom was offered a dagger. His eyes locked with He locked eyes with Robin, who had been sworn to silence the moment the sun had hit her uncovered skin. Her eyes spoke volumes and her words rang true in his mind. _'Sacrifice'_. 

With one deep breath, he put the sharp blade on his wrist and made one, deep cut. It stung, the blood flowing freely. He tried to show no pain as he allowed the blood to flow freely on top of the small altar. "I offer this blood freely." he declared to Robin, who looked at him with strange eyes as she took the offered dagger. Her cut was swift, clean and much more shallow than his. He briefly wondered if he had overdone it, but maybe it was the sun or his actions, but at least it had brought a sparkle to her eyes. They watched their blood fall and mingle until there was no telling which was his and which was hers.

The crowd roared as Validar spoke a few more words and they were offered cloth to bind over their cuts, and then it was over and they were married once again.

He felt hazy as the crowd offered them food, cheering happily at the once-again wedded couple. Their eyes were kind, and he was treated with respect and reverence.  

"You did well today," Robin whispered to him at some point during the feast in their honor.

"I do learn, you know." He joked, earning himself a lopsided smile. "Every ritual, every ceremony, it's all about sacrifice, doing something for the greater good." He repeated more solemnly.

Robin was quiet for a second, looking at him strangely. "Yes," she affirmed warmly. 

A hint of pride swelled up in his chest. "I think I can now finally understand you at least a little bit."

She snorted loudly. "Oh really now?" Robin challenged him.

It might have been the blood loss or the sunstroke, but for once he spoke his mind clearly. "I couldn’t understand how you could be so calm and accepting about our marriage, about leaving the country you obviously love so much forever." He recounted his thoughts of the journey they had made together. "But you're ready to sacrifice yourself for your people. You may not believe that you are a descendant of a god, but you do believe that you have a responsibility and duty, and you put everything you are aside for that."

"Now you're just flattering me!" She accused him, half teasing, half serious. "If you think I am selfless, than you clearly don't understand me as well as you thought you did."

A flash of irritation made his brow furrow. "You're stubborn, you know that?"

"So I've been told." She dismissed him and refused to speak more about it for the rest of the night. But that night, when he’s shivering from the desert night cold that creeps in like an assassin, Robin presses her warm body against his back just seconds before he falls asleep. Suddenly, he’s no longer cold, and wide awake to boot.

 **The gathering is over the following day** , the streets of the capital are being cleaned and life in Plegia continues as it always has. When they leave the city gate, the guards bow at him respectfully and he raises his wounded arm in acknowledgement. Their bags are filled with food and Plegia's truce payment, true to the agreement that no hair on his head is harmed.

By the time they make it back to Ylisstol, Chrom has a whole newfound appreciation for forests. The self-inflicted marriage wound healed nicely without infection and a similar angry, red scar graces his wife's wrist underneath her glove. At night, in the sanctuary of their shared tent she lets him wordlessly trace the line before she falls asleep. The ring he offered her on the morning after their wedding in Ylisstol is a dull cold metal in comparison to the warmth of her skin under his touch. 

The second he sets foot in the castle he calls his home, the spell between them is broken. He is quickly swept away by responsibilities, for rebuilding decades of war is no small task. One day, he leads his Shepherds to rebuild South Town, the next he rebuilds the fortifications up north. The days exhaust him and seeing his wife becomes a rarity.

She disappears in the morning, rarely sharing his breakfast. During the day, she is nowhere to be found, and if he sees her before he falls asleep, it is with her nose in some book, but never the same as the night before. But one particular nice summer night after an ordeal in the city center, he spots her. He sees Emmeryn first, cutting away the bad leaves from one of her plants. In the grass next to her lays Robin, chatting with his sister and holding another one of her books. She seems relaxed and he's surprised that his sister seems to enjoy her company as well. He isn't close enough to hear what they are speaking of, but he does catch his name once. The women laugh shortly after that and Chrom finds his ears turn red with embarrassment and curiosity. He quickly turns around and walks into the castle through another entrance, afraid that they might have caught him eavesdropping. 

After that chance discovery, he makes it a habit to search for her in the gardens when he has the chance. Sometimes his sister accompanies her, but most of the time, she is alone, reading under the shade of a tree. One time, he is surprised to find her walking together with Sumia through the kitchen gardens. They laugh amicably, and he catches Sumia enthusiastic voice saying something about 'Wyvern Wars', but before he can figure out what exactly the women were speaking of, they walk out of his earshot.

That night, he waited for her to come to bed. Her eyes widened in surprise when he greeted her as she slips quietly into their shared bedroom. 

"Are you lonely?" he asks her bluntly because he has no idea how to broach the subject otherwise.

"No?" She answered hesitantly while she casually slipped into her nightdress. Chrom pretended not to watch. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason." He hesitated slightly. "I just thought... What I mean to say is, would you like to join me tomorrow? We're going to return to South Town tomorrow to do deliver the recovering funds and lend a hand or two."

She turned around, astonished. "Soldiers, building houses?"

"To use Frederick's words: If you can torch a house down, you are able to rebuild it back up." Chrom tried to imitate the Great Knight's voice as well, refraining from adding a quick 'Milord' at the end.

A dry chuckle escaped her lips. "I suppose I would like to get out of the castle for a bit." Robin pondered, but he could tell her mind was already made up.

"Well, get into bed then, we leave early in the morrow." 

She wakes him up in the morning instead of the other way around, packed and dressed, eager to go. They arrive in the Shepherd's barracks before Frederick for once, and the look that crosses his friend's face is worth every second of sleep he missed because of it.

When he introduces her to his friends and comrades, only to find out that a few of them had already searched her out. Sumia and Robin quietly argued over the superiority of one book over the other while Stahl makes a good-natured remark about his health. With the war over, he has finally been able to continue his apprenticeship under his own father, and is therefore rarely able to join them in their rebuilding efforts.

"It's interesting and all, sure,” he confessed to Chrom as they march towards South Town. "But it's good to be with you guys again once in a while. The apothecary is too quiet."

Chrom nodded. "Fighting is clear cut. You know who your friends are, and you know who your enemies are." In his mind’s eye, he sees the treaty tent. "Peace, now that is the challenge."

"Having marriage troubles already?" Stahl winked at him.

Chrom almost tripped over a pebble. "Huh?"

The Knight holds up his hands in defense "Just kidding!"

"We're doing fine, thank you." Chrom lies through his teeth. The truth is, they have been married for almost three months and he still feels guilty when he touches her at night.

"No need to get all defensive!" Stahl "But she seems nice."

"She's great." And she really is. He had almost forgotten that she was the main tactician of the Plegian Army before she became his wife. But he is quickly reminded of her sharp wit when she takes one look at the rebuilding plans made by him and the mayor of the town and points out twenty improvements. At the end of the meeting, the man shakes her hand repeatedly, stars in his eyes. Frederick too seems impressed as well. 

After a day of hard work, the mayor insists that they stay the night and Robin agreed before he can protest. The Shepherds cheered, knowing that Chrom and Frederick would have made them camp outside. But reports of unknown attackers were made by many civilians and he and his second-in-command had to agree that staying the night in the town's inn is a lot safer than being ambushed after a hard day's work.

At night, they gathered with the villagers at a campfire and he is thrown back to the night he met Robin. She's comfortably seated between Sumia and Cordelia. 

"Really, it's a good book! I read it twice!" The redhead exclaimed and Sumia nodded eagerly in her defense. The book in question was pushed in his wife's hands.

"In case you had forgotten, I'm married. I hardly need to read something called _'How to make him fall for you in a fortnight,_ '" Robin argued politely, inciting a bout of laughter from those around her.

Sumia immediately started to defend the plot and the sensible heroine, but it is Cordelia who steals his attention. Her smart eyes are knowing and he wonders if all of his friends are aware that his marriage is not the supposed fairy tale they pretend it is. 

"They are good people," Robin whispered to him before they went to sleep. Many eyebrows had been raised suggestively when he had offered her to retreat to their room together, but she had quickly taken his offered hand. "Did you fight together?"

Chrom nodded, lying down on the simple bed they had been gifted. "We served in the westbound forces and I led the fight against Gangrel and Aversa."

Something in Robin's eyes changed, and it was as if she closed herself off entirely within seconds. "Forget I asked, I'm tired." Her yawn was obviously faked. "Good night." With that, she turned with her back towards him.

Anger welled up within him. "No, you're not doing this again." He bit out harshly.

"What? Going to sleep?" Robin whispered back innocently.

"No, avoiding my question." He replied, forcing her to turn her head towards him and meet his eyes. "Or cutting me off."

Her brow furrowed and her tone was as sharp as her blade. "Well, maybe you should get the hint that I don't want to talk about it, then." 

He pushed down his own urge to raise his voice. "Shush, you don't want the entire town to hear us argue."

"Then maybe you should follow my advice and let it rest instead of pressing a sensitive issue." Robin countered condescendingly.

"No," Chrom thundered back resolutely. "I'm not going to do that this time. I'm sick of this distance. Every time we are getting somewhere, you close down and shut me out. How am I supposed to get to know you if you keep slipping out of my reach?"

Robin's frown deepened dangerously. "I'm a person, Chrom, not a puppy. You don't own me."

A quiet realization hit him. "That's the first time you've said my name since we left Plegia. I thought we were doing really well back there, and then you suddenly disappeared."

"Is it?" Her voice grew softer, wondering. "It is. I hadn’t even noticed it myself. We're not very good at this marriage thing, are we?" She admits after a moment of silence.

He pulled her body closer towards him. "Well, I'm trying. It would be nice if you would do the same."

"I am" But Chrom shook his head firmly.

"I know you've been avoiding me. I don't know where you go or what you do, but I know it is always far away from me." Robin had the nerve to look unashamed.

She scoffed at him. "Well, that's not hard since you're always on the run or hitting those practice dummies until there is nothing left of them."

"Have you been watching me?" With trouble, he keeps the teasing out of his voice.

"Occasionally I happened to chance upon you, yes." She avoided skillfully. "You were just too single-mindedly dedicated to destroying that thing to notice me."

"Yes," he admitted without shame. "That is something I do. I would have gladly told you that as well." This time he didn't bother to keep his tone neutral. The accusation hung clear in the air.

She sighed deeply. "We all have scars, Chrom." Her voice sounded bone-deep tired.

"We do." he acknowledges, taking her scarred wrist in his. "We share the same one, remember." He holds his against hers and she scoffs at him.

"Yours is bigger." She states, but there is mirth in her voice again. "You cut too deep that day and spilled much more blood than was needed. If you had fainted the entire ceremony would be nullified."

He hadn't known that, but it explained a few things about that day. Namely the weird looks and the lightheadedness that had possessed him. "I've always been rash. Another thing you should know about me." He adds and leaves the intention of his words in the air, hoping that the entire inn hadn't been privy to their conversation.

He could barely make out her bitter muttering. "I had already noticed."  She sighed once more and blew out the last candle. In the pitch dark of the night, he couldn't see her face and gives up the fight. Just when he is about to wish her a good night, she kisses him.

After a moment of perplexed silence, her voice echoes softly through the room. "Aversa was my sister." Her voice is bare, but her hand trembles in his.

And suddenly, all puzzle pieces come together to make a perfect picture of his idiocy. Chrom cursed his own ignorance. Why hadn't he known? Emmeryn probably knew, if he remembered her cryptic words on his wedding day. In the darkness it was impossible to make Robin's face. 

Chrom didn't know what to say next. Mentioning that he had slain her personally was probably not a good thing to say right now. It dawned on him that the war was always going to sleep between the two of them, no matter how close they got. It was as if a brick settled in his stomach, and all he could do was puller her hand closer to him.

He couldn't exactly say sorry because it hadn't been an accident. They had been fighting a war, and Aversa had willingly served the Mad King. Her husband, he recalled from the back of his mind. He wondered if that marriage had also been arranged. "She was a formidable foe," he blurted out before he could wrap his mind around the notion.

"She died bravely, I've been told."

And that was as much as they could say about the matter. Robin buried her head in his chest, but all he could think about was that the woman he killed had the exact same rare shade of hair as the woman he married. 

When she kissed him that night he felt the wetness on her cheeks, but for once she's eager for sex and in control. She touches him through his loose pants, and despite the conflicting feelings, he can't help but to respond to her touch.

He lets her undress him. His eyes, slowly becoming used to the darkness, catch the outline of her body as she positions herself on top of him. With one swift movement and a cry from her side, they are joined once more. But for once, he doesn't have time to feel guilty about it. She's driven by grief, anger or lust, or whatever makes her move on top of him ferociously enough to vanquish all those feelings. He lets her take whatever comfort she can out of his body as she cries out harder and harder. 

Any concerns about eavesdroppers go out of the window as he discovers his fascination for her ever-changing voice. A small roll of his hips and the look of bewilderment on her face is arouses him more than any touch ever did before. When her cries grow louder and her thrusts more frantic, he grabs her scarred wrist and holds it against his heart. Without any warning, he feels himself explode seconds after she comes undone. 

When they return to the land of the living, he pulls her close to him. In a spur of the moment, he kisses her deeply and some of that passion from before is revived between the two them. They fall asleep like that, intertwined.

The next morning is awkward on many levels. He can barely look Robin in the eye without seeing her sister in her final moments. And yet he's not eager to meet anybody else's, since every time he meets somebody's eyes he is met with suggestive winks and gestures. Even Lissa joined the group, making obscene signs at him whenever Robin's back is turned. By the time they reach Ylisstol in the evening, he was afraid the blush on his face has become permanent.

Only Frederick notices that something is amiss and pulls him aside once they reach the barracks. "What is bothering you, milord?"

"Did you know that Aversa was Robin's sister?" He throws out all at once, unable to keep it to himself.

Frederick stiffens. "I did not," he says with controlled emotions. "I assume this was also new to you?"

Chrom nodded. "I didn't tell I killed her. But I still carry the scar that she gave me and I don't know how long I can keep quiet about it to Robin."

"She is your wife." Frederick agrees. "But it is a delicate issue."

Chrom looks at his father figure of many years with big, pleading eyes. "What should I do?"

"I've never been married, Milord." His friend admits, his eyes averted. "So this is not the kind of advice I can give you." 

A short silence falls between the two friends as they watch some of the other Shepherds leave the barracks. "I wasn't ready for this." Chrom admits softly, his stomach twisting and turning.

"You weren't," Frederick concedes and puts a calming hand on his shoulder. "But you've been handling this admirably, much more mature than I would have thought you capable of before this... arrangement started."

A warm feeling spreads in his chest. "Thanks, I think."

Frederick chuckles deeply. "You're welcome. Now on your way, there is more work to be done."

Chrom nods, and does his duties. He reports to his father, attends a council meeting and has dinner with his wife and sisters.

In the following days, Robin remains true to her word. They have breakfast every day together, and when he needs a sparring partner, he always asks her first. She easily wields a steel sword and a cutting edge, and he is eager to let her have her hand at one of the few silver sword their depleted armory possesses. Her strategic mind beats his superior swordsmanship, and he is pleasantly exhausted after every single practice.

She joins him when he sets out with the Shepherds and in turn she allows him to follow her. It turns out that her hiding spot had been the royal library all along. He watches her absorb book after book while he works on his restoration plans for the southern wall. She's eager to chirp in once or twice to suggest an improvement and he incorporates them without question.

But they don't meet each other's eyes anymore. Whenever it happens on accident, it feels like a physical sting. They are both hiding something, and it is poison to their budding relationship. 

They both know it and yet, the dance continues until the leaves turn brown and the harvest is well in session.

One day, after at least three months of choreographed avoidance, his eldest sister corners him after he returns from another trip to the Plegian borders to settle a local issue. The Plegians have grown to favor the prince that married their princess, a fact his father gladly takes advantage of.

"Are you at all aware," Emmeryn begins sternly, sending shivers to his spine in remembrance of all the times she scolded him as a child. "That your wife is with child?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahem. Anyways, the third chapter. There should have been more plot in this one, but I struggled to get it in and build their relationship at the same time. I hope that the character building makes up for it. Another small note: Chrom is not aware of all that is happening around his wife. Her pleasant relationship with some of the shepherds seems rushed from Chrom’s point of view, but if you would have Robin’s point of view you would know that the girls had to work in order to reach that B level support. Once again, hit me up with some feedback and until next time? (Hail Grima!)


	4. Ylisstol Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrom confronts Robin about her little secret, and it goes surprisingly well for their standards. Now beta'd!

Chrom found Robin in her private study. Normally, he would have knocked, but the anger inside of him made act rashly. He slammed her door open, and with four long strides he stood next to her. "Were you ever going to tell me?" Chrom accused viciously.

Robin seemed lost for a moment and closed her book. "Tell you what?"

Chrom stared pointedly at her stomach, noting no significant difference in size.

After a few second's her eyes widened in a way that would have been comical if the situation had been different. "Oh."

"That's all you have to say to me?!" Chrom fumed back at her, yanking her out of her chair so he could meet her face to face.

"H-how did you know? I haven't started showing yet," she stammered back, refusing to meet his eyes. Her hand rested protectively on her stomach, and the very sight of it fueled his anger.

"Emmeryn told me," hespat out.

Robin cursed some ancient Plegian words under her breath. "I knew I shouldn't have gone to her for those herbs."

For a second, his anger was replaced by worry. "Which herbs- you know what, never mind. I don't need to know what you talk about with my sister in private." He shook his head, reminding himself what he came here for. "What I would have liked to know is the fact that you're pregnant."

"It's for morning sickness, for you information." Robin frowned deeply. "And I really was going to tell you soon."

He felt like he had heard her say those words a thousand times before. "And when would soon be, when the entire court knew?"

"Stop being so upset over this. I'm barely three months pregnant, and nobody save for your sister and a doctor knows," she barked back irritably, her free hand clenching into a fist. "Okay, maybe Stahl does, I asked him a few questions here and there. His family owns an apothecary, did you know?"

Chrom rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course I knew, I've known him longer than you do, remember?"

"Okay, what do you want to hear? I'm sorry?" Robin demanded, her voiced raised as well. At this rate the entire castle would know before dinner. "Well, I am. I didn't know you would take it this hard."

Just when he was about to regain his composure, she set him off again. "How, in Naga's name, can you be so incredibly smart and incredibly stupid at the same time?" He fumed back at her, trying to keep his anger controlled. "You're carrying my child! Of course I wanted to know as soon as you did."

His words left her speechless for a moment. Then, she admitted softly: "I just wanted to keep it for myself a little bit. I didn't want everyone to know."

He rubbed his temples, trying to choose his words carefully. "I'm hardly everyone, Robin. I'm your husband. It's my child too, remember."

"Oh, I remember." Her strange tone caught him off guard. Maybe it was the anger or something else entirely, but her face was slightly red and her eyes were nowhere near his face.

"Hey, what is that supposed to mean?!" He exclaimed indignantly.

She scoffed at him, still not meeting his eyes. "Nothing. Okay you can stop frowning now. You know my big secret. Congratulations, within six short months you're going to be a father Chrom." Her tone was as sharp as the blade she wielded so well, the sarcasm dripping from it like blood.

Chrom tried to be the adult in the conversation and ignored the remark. "Was it really that hard to tell me before my sister had to tell me?" When she said nothing, he continued. "Look, I can't even wrap my mind around the fact that we're going to have a kid. I need to know that we're in this together, and I can't do that if you keep important information from me all the time."

She finally met his eyes, and he was shocked to find tears glistering in them. "Look, do you want to know the truth?" Robin hissed at him, pointing her finger into his chest as if to drive her point across. "The truth is, I'm scared out of my mind. Yes, the dauntless Plegian Fellblooded Princess, descendant of Grima himself, is scared shitless. What if it's a boy? My father will take him away as soon as I've given birth to him, and I'll never see him again. In Grima's name, I wouldn't be surprised if he would demand that I give birth on Plegian soil!"

Chrom was taken aback for a few seconds. The notion that he was going to be a father had yet to settle into his mind, never mind the fact that the little thing inside his wife's stomach was someday going to be a living person. "We won't let him," he said resolutely. "It's our son. He might be his heir, but not his child."

A bitter, mirthless laugh escaped from Robin's lips. "You obviously do not know my father." And Chrom had to admit that he didn't. "Do you know how many times he has told me 'if only you had been born a man?' Well, more times than even Miriel could count!"

The vision of Validar forcing Robin to give him his child popped up in his mind, but he pushed it away forcefully. "But you're not in Plegia, Robin. You're in Ylisse, and as your godforsaken husband I have at least some say into this." He put hands on her shoulders as if it would make his words more true. The truth was that he didn't know the Plegian king well enough to make such a bold statement.

And yet, it had the desired effect. "Maybe," Robin admitted halfheartedly. "But what about the alternative, what if it's a girl? We're barely twenty, half of this court still looks at me like I'm about to stab them in the back any minute now. Do I want my child to grow up in that kind of world? Could I protect her? Would I be a good mother?"

Chrom didn't know what to say for a moment. "I didn't know they treated you as such."

Robin waved his guilt away with her hand. "They're very polite about it, that's for sure," she assured him. "But growing up in the Scorpion Pit that is the Plegian Royal Court, I can recognize politely formulated threats and distrust any day of the week."

His sister had always berated him on his lack of diplomatic skills, and for once he had wished he had taken her up on those lessons she had offered him many times."How about Maribelle and Ricken?" he asked her after a second ofinternal thought. "You seem to get along with them."

A wry, twisted smile appeared on Robin's lips. "I have earned her respect the hard way, that's for sure. And Ricken… well what can I say? His House is in even lesser standing than mine, and that's hard at the Ylissean court. He's a good kid though, doesn't have a shred of evil in him."

"Nevertheless, this has to stop."

Robin smiled at him as she would do at a child. "This isn't something you can just tell people to stop doing. They don't trust me because I'm Plegian. Half of these people has lost someone they loved to the war, it's not strange that they put the blame with me."

Her words made sense, to some extent. He suddenly remembered rather vividly how some people had thrown rocks at her when she first arrived in Ylisstol. "Gods, they haven't harmed you, have they?" He wrapped his arms around her protectively until he felt her stiffen in his grip.

"Of course not." Her words were barely above a whisper in his ear. "As I said, they are very polite about their distrust. Sure, if looks could kill I would be dead a billion times over, but I can take that. I'm not worried about me. I'm worried if we have a child who is just like me, with a Fellblood brand on her skin, somewhere where she can't hide it as easily as I do."

Chrom held her and cursed the heavens above for his own obliviousness. "I'll see to it that nobody will harm my child. No matter what. No matter if it's a silent crowd shunning my daughter or King Validar himself trying to take our son away. I'm not a good prince. But I'm a good fighter, and I can protect what is mine." As he said those words, he found them to be nothing but truthful.

"You can't start a war over this!" Robin exclaimed loudly, worming her way out of his embrace. "Not a civil war, nor one with Plegia! Remember why we agreed with this marriage in the first place! For peace!" Her words that day at the border pass rung true in his ears.

He shook his head. "I may not be the best in politics, but I can fight a battle diplomatically. I won't break the treaty, I swear this to you. We already sacrificed too much for that," Chrom explained patiently. "But call me a sap or what you will, but our child will be just that: ours. Sure, your father will want a claim, and so will my own. But you're incredibly smart, and I'm incredibly stubborn if I want to be. I swear to you, with Naga herself as my witness, that this time we will take our fate in our own damn hands. Let our parent's meddle with their children's lives, we will take care of ours." He felt like he was giving a motivational speech to a dispirited crowd during the war. And yet, the idea of letting go of his own child hurt inexplicably, even if he was quite sure he wasn't ready to be a father.

Robin sighed deeply. "It's not that simple."

"No, it is really that simple." Chrom insisted. "It's putting your foot on the ground and deciding: 'this is enough, I won't take anymore.'"

She met him with bewilderment, her own brown ones a sight for sore eyes. "I'm not that strong," she admitted softly after searching for something in his gaze.

"Sure you are," he told her resolutely, pulling her closer to him once more to affirm his words. "And you're smart, and a lot more diplomatic than I am. We're a good team, and we're going to be good parents, or die trying."

"Dying?" she said, giggling slightly at the very notion. "Let's not shall we?"

"Do I detect a smile?" he teased her, knowing he had won their argument. "Yes I do!"

She hid her lips behind a hand, but her eyes betrayed her joy. "Your enthusiasm is contagious." He dared to put a hand on her stomach where her own had been not too long ago. Maybe it was because he knew it should be there, but he could barely feel the swell under his palm. Robin held her breath while he searched.

"Good, because that was my goal," he admitted, smiling as well and all anger long forgotten. "Look, the point is we're not ideal parents. I don't even know if I love you, we're barely twenty and I'd honestly wish that you weren't pregnant. But you are. And we have to deal with the hand we're given."

Something changed in her demeanor when he said those words. The smile fell from her face and her eyes grew distant again.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asked carefully.

"No you didn't." She closed her eyes for a second, and an awkward silence fell between them. "You're actually very right. And I'm sorry, for what it's worth."

He suddenly remembered how angry he had been just mere minutes ago. "You're forgiven." Chrom replied awkwardly, but it didn't lift the tension in the room. "Maybe I overreacted a little bit. I just really didn't see it coming, at all."

Robin looked at him strangely with a certain sparkle in her eyes. "With the amount of sex that we were having, it was bound to happen at some point."

He felt the blood stream to his cheeks, and immediately took a step backwards. "It's not even that often as you're implying!" he exclaimed before he could think about the obvious bait. "Wait, are you trying to make me blush?"

"Maybe," she teased half-heartedly before she grew serious again. "Anyway, we should make a formal announcement soon."

The idea sobered him. "Shouldn't we first tell our family? And maybe the Shepherds too." Chrom tried not to imagine how they would react.

Robin was oblivious to his distressed thoughts."Just tell them tonight over dinner, and I'm sure Lissa will make sure the rest of the Shepherds will know before the break of dawn."

Robin's assessment of the situation had been correct, as usual. When they told Lissa during dinner, she had first been surprised, then elated, then worried, and when the idea of her becoming an aunt finally settled, she became downright ecstatic. Before they could retire for the night, half of the Shepherds already knocked on his door to see if Lissa hadn't been pulling a prank on them.

His father merely congratulated them both and recounted a short story from when Emmeryn was born. Chrom had heard it a thousand times before, about how his mother had had trouble carrying a child and had two pregnancies before Emmeryn came along. According to his father, his mother had been so afraid to disappoint everyone again that she had kept the pregnancy a secret for six whole months. Chrom thought that if his father hadn't been fighting Plegia during that time, he would have noticed her swollen stomach sooner. But his father looked nostalgically happy, so he kept his thoughts to himself. Emmeryn listened to him with visible interest, always glad to talk about a mother he and Lissa couldn't remember. It was a bond between his eldest sister and his estranged father that they would never have.

The formal announcement was made a few weeks later. During the ball thrown in their unborn child's honor, he watched his wife like a hawk. With his hand on the small of her back, he guided her from noble to noble. True to her words, some of them were coldly polite to her, meeting his eyes rather than the ones of the mother-to-be. Her hand in his kept him grounded and silent.

Robin was adequately polite to all who came to congratulate them. She was roughly four months along and in her formal dress, her stomach was visibly swollen. Lissa couldn't resist the urge to feel from time to time, and Robin bore the treatment with grace. Not all were as graceful though. The Feroxian Khans had showed up as well in order to renew the relationships between the two countries. The East Khan gladly told them about her own three pregnancies, not barring the details inappropriate for a formal gathering. The West Khan tried to rope him into a conversation about women and their mood swings, but he wisely held his tongue. Still they meant well, and he could see Robin relax in their presence. Nevertheless, he was glad when the music changed and he and Robin were supposed to lead the couples on the dance floor.

Dancing had never been his forte during his childhood, but he found that after years of sword practice, careful footwork wasn't so hard anymore. He held Robin close as he guided her around the dance room, careful not to put pressure on her stomach. She was unfamiliar with the Ylissean folk dance, but allowed him to guide her through the steps. Their eyes met and she smiled. Trust, came to his mind. He managed not to abuse it and refrained from stepping on her already swollen feet for the entirety of the evening.

As the seasons turned, Robin became less and less mobile. Her feet were swollen and her stomach threw her sense of balance off. These things were normal, she assured him from time to time.

Some of the Shepherds gladly visited them to talk about the baby. Especially Sumia and surprisingly, Kellam had many stories to tell about their mothers and younger siblings. Chrom listened carefully to their advice to hold a child like this, or not put the crib to close to the window, but in the back of his mind there were other worries.

Robin's words month's earlier had planted a seed of doubt in his mind that was slowly coming into fruition. What  _if_  it was a boy, and Validar rightfully claimed him? What could he really do? Breaking the arrangement would mean breaking the treaty, and hadn't he married Robin to ensure the peace in the first place? His bold words to Robin seemed immature now. When Sumia asked him if he hoped for a boy or a girl, he lied and said it didn't matter to him. When he met his wife's eyes, he knew that he hadn't fooled her.

Sumia didn't seem to notice, too hung up in her own stories she readily shared with them over tea. Fredrick had recently responded to the Sheppard's eternal teasing and started courting her. She was over the moon, and seeing them together sometimes sparked a pang of jealousy. Chrom wondered how life would have been if he and Robin would have had the luxury to fall in love. She was absolutely beautiful and a genius to boot. Sure, she guarded her thoughts like a lion, but she was kind, dutiful and selfless. It was hard not to admire her, he had to admit. When asked, he would introduce her with pride as his wife, and they got along well enough.

And yet, the blush on Sumia's cheeks, the giddiness in her voice as she spoke Fredrick's name persisted: there was nothing forced about that and he envied the happy couple for it.

The other person who seemed to share his feelings was Emmeryn. He didn't know if she loved Fredrick from afar or if it simply reminded her of the fact that she was alone, but he could see her stare at Sumia and Fredrick from time to time.

"We all wish for that kind of love," was all she said when asked, and nothing more than that. Chrom wondered if he also looked at Robin and him that way. It was strange, to some extent, to have a child before his sister. When thinking of a mother figure, it was her face that popped up into his mind. She would tell them not to cry when they were young and scared, not their father.

The scary, scowling father from his past was long gone though, or maybe he had never even truly been. Never before in his life had his father spent so much time with him. He had been officially made part of the council, and his father actively sought out his advise on matters that he felt like he had little knowledge of. From time to time, the Exalt joined him on the training field as he trained with new troops. Chrom recognized his efforts for what they were: peace talks.

His father was diplomatically cunning, although not quite on his wife's level. Only now that he was actively trying to look underneath the surface? did he get how many subliminal messages were sent to him on a daily basis. As his influence in the realm grew, so did the amount of nobles trying to curry his favor. With Robin as his trusted adviser, ever present at his side, their intentions were laid bare one by one in front of them. Some were well-intended, and those she masterfully twisted into a mutually beneficial plan that seemed like it had been the original idea all along. Others were politely pushed aside, with Robin always careful to smooth out any ruffled feathers. Even Emmeryn looked impressed after she was done, and an odd sense of pride overtook him whenever she smiled at the two of them.

Chrom's father hadn't been happy when he had insisted on bringing his very pregnant wife into state council meetings, but there was little he could do to deny him. In a battle of wills, Chrom's convictions were stronger and his father yielded to his only son's will. Chrom considered it practice for when their child was born. Robin remained quiet most of the time, but at night she had no qualms about discussing the latest plans for the realm.

It was one of those nights in April when she suddenly stopped mid-sentence and rapidly paled.

"What's wrong?" he asked her when he noticed she sat up in bed, hunched over her stomach.

She looked at him with wide eyes. "I think I'm having a contraction," Robin mumbled insecurely, her arms cradling her stomach. "That means I'm going in to labor soon."

Chrom blinked rapidly in succession. "Are you sure?" he asked carefully, his hand on her stomach. Nothing seemed different to him.

"I'm certain it wouldn't hurt this much if I wasn't sure," she intoned sarcastically.

A sense of panic suddenly settled in Chrom's stomach as the fact that he was about to become a father started to sink in. "What should I do? Get a healer?"

Robin doubted for a moment. "Let's wait a few seconds. Maybe I'm mistaken."

But not too long after her words, she grimaced again. He held her hand as she clenched her jaw tightly.

"Another one?" He guessed correctly. "I'm going to get a healer."

Robin gawked at him in disbelief like he was a madman doing back flips in their bedroom. It's the middle of the night, you dolt!"

Chrom resisted the urge to laugh at her. "Dear, you're having a baby. I don't think they are going to turn the prince of Ylisse away from their door because his wife is going in to labor. This is literally why we keep them in the castle."

Her cheeks turned slightly red, and she admitted: "Okay, you're right. I'm sorry, I'm a little bit confused." He could feel her hand shake in his, and he knew it wasn't only because of the pain. "Scratch that, I'm scared as hell. I'm not ready for labor."

"Yes you are. You were saying only this morning that you couldn't wait for the kid to arrive!" He encouraged her, feigning more courage than he actually felt.

Robin's sarcasm made a comeback. "I obviously was mistaken."

As another wave of pain his his wife, Chrom dressed himself quickly and rushed out of the door. "I'll be back as soon as possible, okay? Don't move, just relax and stay calm," he promised her.

Her brown eyes stared deep into his, pleading things she would never put into words. "Please be back soon," was the last thing he heard before he closed the door and ran straight to the healer's quarters.

It turned out that they were expecting him any day now, or at least that's what one of the clerics told him. The midwives were mobilized in mere minutes, and together with some maids, Robin was gently and quietly carried to a room. He held her hand close to him all the way until one of the clerics told him to wait outside. Robin seemed like she wanted to protest, but the midwives quickly ushered him away and closed the door behind him. Somewhat forlorn, Chrom sat down next to the closed door with every intention to guard it like a hawk.

Slowly, a small crowd started to gather in front of the door. First came Lissa, and not long after her Emmeryn. They were both dressed in their sleeping gowns, and were equally irritated that they weren't allowed to help inside. Their father arrived somewhat before sunrise, when the first cries of pain could already be heard from the other side of the room. His father's hand on his shoulder was strangely comforting, but it didn't stop his hands from shaking or his heart from jumping every time Robin's cries could be heard.

And then, labor was over as quickly as it began and a baby could be heard crying through the door. Chrom immediately got up, barged into the room to see a midwife holding a naked, bloody little child in her arms.

"You're supposed to wait outside." The nurse told him indignantly, but he paid her no mind.

"I did. Now hand me my baby." He sneered at her with the lingering anger from being denied of his rightful place beside his wife when she needed him most.

The midwife looked like she was going to protest, but relented and handed him the child. His nightshirt was immediately bloodied, but he didn't care in the slightest. In his arms, a small infant cried heartily, and nothing else truly mattered in the world. He looked up to meet his wife's eyes. She was as white as a sheet and seemed tired to the bone, but content. No words were needed when he handed her their child. A girl, he noted with no small amount of relief. Their little baby girl, screaming and healthy and theirs alone.

Robin started crying softly, threading her shaking hands through the blue hair already apparent on the little girl's head.

He was quickly ushered out of the room again, but not before he could plant a soft kiss on his wife's sweaty forehead. She smiled tiredly at him, her eyes fixed on their little daughter.

Outside, his family and friends immediately assaulted him with questions.

"It's a girl," he uttered dazedly. All the exhaustion he had refused to feel during the night crashed down upon him at once. All sleepless nights were for naught because it wasn't a boy, it was a girl and she was his and his alone.

Lissa downright squealed and hugged him despite the blood on his tunic. People were congratulating him left and right, but their words went straight over his head. Only his father's strangely proud eyes left an impression on him.

When he was finally let back inside the room, the little girl was clean and dressed, contently drinking from Robin's breast.

"Lucina," he suggested. "As she was born with the first light of the day."

Robin's tired eyes met him momentarily, and she seemed to mull it over for a minute. "I had hoped to name her after my mother, but you're right. She is nothing like my mother, more like a bundle of blue light shining through our lives." Their little girl sucked contently on her mother's breast, and Chrom took it as a sign of quiet approval.

One of the midwives offered him a chair next to the bed. "How are you?" he asked while he sat down next to Robin.

Her smile was blinding. "Tired, in pain. And happy. Very, very happy."

Chrom looked at his daughter while she drank, until she stopped and started making small sounds of discontent. "Can I hold her?" With effort, Robin's exhausted arms handed the little life to him.

Like clockwork, she stopped crying and snuggled close to her father's chest. A deep sense of fulfillment settled over him as he held her carefully. Robin looked at them with loving eyes, her hand on his knee.

That was how his family found them a hour later.

"She's beautiful!" Emmeryn exclaimed with delight when she was allowed to hold the newest member of their family. "And she looks exactly like you, Chrom."

"This is so weird. You having a child," Lissa said while she held the small child's hand with two fingers.

He accepted his daughter back from his sister, immediately trying to get her as comfortable as possible. "You get used to it quickly," he admitted as he rocked the tiny girl to sleep.

"You look the part, son," his father said warmly, a hand on his shoulder. "Congratulations to you both. What have you named her?"

"Lucina."

The exalt frowned ever so slightly. "Not exactly a traditional name, is it?"

"It comes from my side of the family," Robin lied smoothly, and his father seemed content with that explanation.

The exalt carefully brushed a strand of hair out of the girl's face. "You should be proud," he added curtly after a moment of softness. There was a sense of longing in his eyes for a fleeting moment, and then it was gone. Chrom politely offered him to hold Lucina, but he declined saying that he should get back to work. Instead, his youngest sister eagerly held the young child with surprising expertise. His father left shortly after that.

"Is that what I think it is?" Emmeryn suddenly exclaimed.

Dread rose in Chrom's stomach, and he rushed "What?"

Lissa squinted, following Emmeryn's pointed finger. "In her eye! It looks like…"

Lucina blinked again, and her impossibly blue eyes met his unseeingly. In the left one, a small sign stood out, only visible in the right light.

"You're right, it's the brand of the Exalt!" Chrom exclaimed with surprise. His own brand had surfaced when he was four years of age, not mere hours after birth. "Well, if there was any doubt about the child's lineage, it is gone now," he joked, earning a few surprised looks.

"Chrom, our daughter has bright blue hair. That's not exactly a common feature, you know." Robin deadpanned with her usual amount of sass, and it felt strangely reassuring to hear her speak like that.

"I wasn't talking about us," he admitted quietly while Lissa handed him back his daughter and left the room without another word. "I was talking about all those people who you thought would hate her because she is half Plegian. Now, whenever they look her in the eye they will know that she's half Ylissean as well." Emmeryn looked sympathetically at the young girl.

Robin was slightly surprised when the door slammed shut. "Why did Lissa just walk out of the room like that?"

The two remaining siblings shared a look. "It's a sensitive issue, dear sister-in-law," Emmeryn explained with careful words. "You see, her brand never surfaced. I keep telling her she's the spitting image of our mother, and yet she has always doubted herself."

Robin frowned deeply. "Why? These blessed marks don't appear on every child's skin. My own is only shared among about a third of the Fellblood children. It sometimes surfaces at a later age though."

Emmeryn sighed, and shook her head. "So we've told her a thousand times. But my mark is on my forehead and Chrom's is on his arm. Father's mark is on his left hand, and I suppose she is confronted with it every single day. It is painful for her." She looked carefully at the small child in her brother's arms, blinking up at her kind aunt. "I'll leave you two alone and search for her. Congratulations on your healthy little girl, once more."

"Thank you, Emmeryn."

Emmeryn smiled kindly back at the young couple before she closed the door behind her. That was the last time Chrom saw his sister alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That seemed like a good point to quit. *Grima intensifies* I hope I was able to create the sense of breakthrough I intended, both for the characters and their relationship. Lucina's name being a reference to her birth is a personal headcanon of mine, feel free to adopt it or not. (Hail Grima!)


	5. Plegian Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And we continue right where we left off, and it is not happy.

Only years of honing his battle instincts awoke Chrom from his blissful slumber. He blinked, once, twice, and took a second to realize where he was. His wife laid in the bed besides him, too exhausted to do anything else but sleep after hours and hours of childbirth. The fruit of her labor was peacefully sleeping in his own arms. Somehow, even during his own sleep, he had managed to maintain a firm yet comforting grip on his child. For a second, a sensation of pure spread through his heart, and he couldn't believe how lucky they were.

But he didn't get more than that very second to enjoy it. The sounds that had roused him from his sleep returned, but louder. A cling of two blades meeting, and splutter, and then an awful silence. Chrom hoisted himself out of his chair, still half asleep and put Lucina in her mother's arms. The girl stirred for a few seconds, but then nestled herself contently next to the woman who had carried her for nine months. A soft creak of the door being opened caught Chrom's attention. 

Before him was not midwife, but a fully armed warrior. If the blades were any indication, it was an assassin. Chrom cursed himself for leaving Falchion in their chambers. When the man lunged for him, Chrom had only his own hands to protect his wife and child with. 

"Robin!" He cried while he barely dodged a clever swipe of the assassin's blade. "Robin wake up! There is an assassin here, I need you to guard our daughter!" 

The man came too close to his wife's sleeping form, and Chrom rewarded him with a firm kick in the shins. The man cried out in pain, but Chrom paid it no heed, clawing at whatever part of the assassin he could reach. He knew his chances of winning were slim, but all he could do was use himself as a living shield for his fragile wife.

Robin awoke slowly, and then all at once. She cried his name as the assassin managed to cut his side. The sting hurt, but Lucina's cries was what made his vision go black. With strength and speed he didn't know he possessed, he managed to topple the assassin to the ground and claim his weapon. Another knife quickly found its way between his ribs, but he was numb to the pain as he sliced the man's throat open in one smooth cut. The blood flowed freely on Chrom's already bloodstained hands and the assassin gave one last dying gurgle before he stilled all together. 

His wife got herself out of the bed with effort and helped him stand up. "We need to alert the rest of the palace." Her words sounded like the came from a very great distance. "If there is one assassin trying to kill the Prince of Ylisse, there must be more."

"Lissa! Emmeryn!" He managed to pant out. His breath was gone and his vision was hazy, and yet the only thing he could think of was protecting his sisters. His father, no doubt, would be guarded heavily, and Chrom hoped that if it wasn't so the man was at least as sensible to keep a sword by his side. He knew his father's battle-born paranoia, and therefor he knew it must be so. Little Lucina cried softly in her mother's arms, and it grounded Chrom.

"You must stay here, protect our child!" He ordered his wife who was inspecting the assassin for any hidden weapons they might use.

She didn't even stop her work to answer him. "And wait for the next assassin to come? I'm unarmed Chrom, the guards by the door are dead. Our best chance is to stay together and get our hands om some kind of weapon so we can defend ourselves."

"You can barely walk."

"Are you saying that you can?" That earned him a sharp look, and he had to admit to himself that the blood flowing from his wounds was enough to down him very soon. "Come on Chrom, don't challenge me in this. Strategy is my job, and let me work my magic."

He sighed and put his one hand on her shoulder to steady himself. "To our chambers, then?"

Robin shook her head. "Too far, too predictable. That's the first place a assassin would be waiting for us." She explained patiently while she rocked Lucina against her to keep her quiet. "Let's take the guard's weapons instead and see if we can find something better while we wake the castle."

The body of the guard suddenly was all he could see. "The man was a father." Chrom recounted in quiet terror. "He told me so while you were giving birth."

Robin searched the man without the painful emotions he felt. "Chrom, not now. You can grieve later, but I need you to stay sharp now, or Lucina will be an orphan too." She  told him, but the man's careful smile and sweet tales were all he could think of.  

Robin pushed a short iron sword in his hands that once belonged to the guard. He tried not to think of the blood that was slowly drying on top of it, and instead let his eyes glide over the halls. It was quiet, far too quiet if Robin were to be believed. Yet, she wasn't crying for help left and right, so he followed her lead and remained silent as well. 

With effort, the couple made it to the servant's quarters that were located two corridors left of the birthing room. Without any form of announcement she barged in. The six men and women working in the kitchens immediately came to their aid, and after Robin spoke some quiet words with the head cook, the two women started rallying everyone they could find to their cause. He was forcefully put into a chair, too weak to put op a good fight. Robin sat besides him, letting their little daughter drink her milk. Within minutes guards appeared and formed a protective circle around them, and Chrom allowed himself to loosen his grip on the borrowed sword. Instead he placed his hands on his chest. A lot of blood was pouring out, and only then did he realize that every breath hurt more than the previous one. Every time he spoke, his throat burned and stung. Something wet was dripping from his lips, and in the distance he could hear people calling his name in alarmed tones. But it was already too late. His vision became hazy, and before he lost consciousness he shot one last glance at his wife and child. They seemed safe and guarded well, and with that thought in mind Chrom let go.

When he awoke, it was nighttime and all the noise and voices were gone. For a moment he groped around, only to feel the sting of pain jolting him further awake. He was laying in his own bed, he concluded after a small scan of the room.

"Don't move too much." A gentle voice cautioned him, which he recognized to be Libra's. "You don't want to open your wounds again."

"Libra?" He tried to say, but all he managed was a raspy gurgle.

"Your wife and child are fine. At her request, they brought her a tome with which she defended both you and the servants when the assailants came. She is tired, but overall healthy. You however, would be wise not to speak anytime soon. Your lung and throat were severely damaged and neither your sister nor I have to magical prowess to mend them entirely without resigning you to a long period of bed rest."

His tired eyes widened. "Sis-ta...rr?" 

Libra sighed deeply. "Lady Lissa is fine. She was with Fredrick, Sumia and that Feroxian swordsman that your father wishes her to marry when they came for her, and they protected her well. She is a bit emotionally drained, naturally, but physically she is in perfect health."

When the man didn't continue, he raised his battered voice once more. "E-e-mm?" Was all he managed before he started coughing violently.

"Please, stop talking. All will be explained once you are better, so please, Prince Chrom, sleep."

He wanted to fight, but the monk's magic was strong and his body was battered. As he was forced into sleep, he couldn't help but sense a feeling of dread from the young monk.

The next few days he spend in between sleep and wakefulness, never truly in command of his senses. He swore that at some point his father stood by his bedside, crying. Surely that had been a dream. Lucina's insistent wailing, her hands clawing at his face felt more real. A soft press of lips against his lulled him back into unconsciousness. 

It was his sister's hand in his that pulled him back to the land of the living.

"Oh Chrom, you're finally awake again!" Lissa cried out, tears fresh on her cheeks. 

He wanted to tell her he was fine, but the pain in his chest did not allow him to. Instead, he nodded weakly at her, allowing her to embrace him carefully. Her normal clothing was replaced by a simple, dark dress, and the mere sight of it made him frown.

"I thought I'd lost you too! You wouldn't wake up again, and Libra said the wound in your lung had started infecting. The blade had been poisoned with something, and we almost lost you two times! Oh Chrom, we almost lost you too!"

Someone had died, and it was someone close. His father’s face crossed his mind. Had it been his ghost that had come to say goodbye, or had it been a dream all along? "Wh-o?" He grunted out, and Lissa covered her mouth with her hands, tears spilling from her eyes afresh.

"Oh Chrom, Emm. I was in the gardens when they came, but I could still hear her cries. They- they-" Bitter tears fell from his sister's eyes, and Chrom wanted nothing more but to hold her close to him. After a short moment, she regained her voice and continued. "They broke into her study, killed her maid and guard and then- then- she fell Chrom, just a little bit away from me. They pushed her from her balcony, and nobody could have survived that, but she did! She did, and then-" 

"And then she didn't." Fredrick finished solemnly. "Lady Emmeryn survived the fall but not the trauma that was caused by it. She died two days ago in her own bed. We were unable to save her." If Chrom had been able to register what he saw, he would notice the tears streaming freely over his oldest friend’s face.

Instead, he closed his eyes and covered his ears, knowing that this could not be true. His beloved sister, it felt like mere days ago that he had last seen her and now they told her she was dead. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be! His fingers trembled as he told himself so, over and over again. But no matter how hard he bit his own cheek, begging himself to wake up from this nightmare, reality didn’t change. His sister still cried deeply in Fredrick’s arms, and the wound in his chest ached with every breath. Disbelief made way for grief and anger, and Chrom let out a strangled cry that tore right through flesh and bone.

Lissa cried even harder, calling Emmeryn’s name again and again as if it would bring her back. She threw herself on his bed, grasping for Chrom’s weak form. “Don’t die Chrom, you cannot die too! Don’t leave me all alone, please! Please! I beg you!”

But Chrom couldn’t answer. His throat was thick, and a weight the size of Ylisse laid on his chest. In his mind, he only saw Emmeryn, how she had doted on his newborn daughter and how the greatest day in his life had quickly turned out to be the worst. He didn’t register when Fredrick kneeled besides his bed and vowed to never neglect his duty as a knight again, swearing to never leave his side again. He didn’t took notice when Lissa cried herself to sleep, voice hoarser than his and an innocence lost forever. Chrom didn’t even realize when his wife and daughter entered the room, or when they left.

The following days he was caught in a haze. Every time he realized the truth, his mind would blank out and he would be lost to the world again. He didn’t know how his father had pronounced him crown prince, or how his wife accepted the crown in his absence. Neither would he ever know that Robin spend most of the first month of her child’s life sleeping next to her crib, guarding her daughter with her own body.

The only time he was forced out of bed was when Emmeryn was buried. With the help of his fellow shepperds he was able to stand up during most of the ceremony, until he collapsed in Kellam’s strong arms. “Don’t worry, people won’t know I’m here anyway.” The kind man whispered in Chrom’s ear, and he nodded gratefully for the support.

The ceremony was short and painful, with Lissa crying through her entire speech. As he was too injured to carry her coffin into the grave or to speak, all he could do was watch as people who hadn’t known his sister did his duty as her only brother. Anger welled up in him as some nobles spoke familiarly of her, as if they had truly known her! For all the wrath her pacifist ways had brought her during her life, those who had scorned her most were the first to mourn her death. If he had had the strength, he would have punched them all and told them what he thought.

But he was too weak. Too weak to walk, too weak to stand, too weak to even speak against their hypocrisy. The only comfort was his daughter in his arms and his wife at his side.

“I loved her too.” She whispered, not to the crowd but to Lissa and him alone. “She was like a second sister to me, and to see another one go so soon…. All I want to say is that you are not alone. Stop walling yourself in. Your father needs you.” That last statement she directed straight to him.

That was the first time Chrom dared to look at his father. The exalt was surrounded by guards, now more than ever, but they could not shield him from the eyes of the world. The once mighty king had sunken to the ground, kneeing in front of his eldest daughter’s coffin. Chrom couldn’t see his face, but the sobs that wrecked through the old man’s body told him enough _. ‘She was always his favorite child.’_ He thought, staring wide eyed at a formerly distant man mourning openly for his first child.

“A child who has lost their parents is an orphan, a woman who has lost her husband is called a widow. But there is no word for a parent whose child has died, not in Plegian nor in Ylissean. It is unnatural.” Her words were solemn and grave and he wondered if she had heard them before at her own sister’s funeral, an event that was his fault as well. “I know you two don’t get along, but he has been trying. Besides, we have Lucina now. How would you feel if she died? You two are not so different, you know.”

 _‘I know all too well’_ , he wanted to add bitterly. From their hair to the way they swung their sword, he and his father were quite alike, and that didn’t make it any less painful.

Nevertheless, he tried to get up and do his wife’s bidding. His legs were fine, it was his back that had problems supporting his full weight, and the second he tried to walk, a sharp pain in his chest made him loose his balance. Robin immediately came to his aid, securing their daughter safely between their bodies as she held him standing with surprising strength. “Kellam, he can’t walk on his own, if you would please?”

“Sure Captain, whenever you need me.” Kellam said good naturedly, and put an arm under his shoulder, effectively carrying most of the weight. Lucina shifted momentarily in his grip, but didn’t cry. Chrom wished he could be that strong. When Robin took her from his arms, he felt the loss as keenly as if an arm was severed from his body. “But just between the two of us, isn’t this usually Fredrick’s duty?”

His wife interpreted his silence for him. “Look at Fredrick, Kellam. He served this family the better part of his life, not as a servant but as a friend” There was more to it, but Robin wouldn’t know that. She wouldn’t know how Fredrick had been a father to him when his own was gone, and how Emmeryn had looked strangely at the dutiful knight sometimes when she thought nobody was watching her. But these were words that would never leave her lips anymore, so they dried in his mouth as well. “We cannot ask him to care for us when it is him that needs to be looked after.” She added, and shot a sympathetic look at Fredrick. He wasn’t crying, but his face was grave and his legs were shaking in an effort to remain standing. Sumia supported him, carefully whispering in his ear, but he seemed deaf to her words of comfort. Chrom couldn’t blame him when he felt the exact same.

“And nobody blames Fredrick for that.” Kellam added quickly, assisting him to where his father was kneeled. As per usual, if the guards noticed him, they didn’t give any sign of and parted for their crown prince.

“Fa-thr” He managed to utter softly, making the exalt raise his head. His eyes were puffy and his complexion grim, spotted with red. On newly placed tombstone, a sea of roses and a single tear lay for the world to see. Chrom fell to his knees next to his father, dizzy from both exhaustion and emotion.

“Chrom. You shouldn’t be out of bed, we almost lost you too.” For a split second Chrom wondered if the man would have preferred if it had been him who had been laying in that grave and Emmeryn kneeling besides him. He didn’t even know if he would have preferred it. It was only Lucina’s insistent crying in the distance that reminded him that he wasn’t done yet.

He carefully turned his head towards his wife and daughter. The little girl was restless in Robin’s arms, and after a shared look she brought her over to her father. Well aware of his father’s longing eyes on him, he accepted his little girl, who immediately stopped crying. “Already a daddy’s girl, huh? Emmeryn was like that too, when she was younger.”

Maybe it was a good thing he couldn’t speak, or he would have screamed at the man that he had never been around long enough for any child of his to become a daddy’s child. His eyes must have translated some of his fury, for the exalt quickly averted his own.

 When he spoke again, his voice was cold. “Today your sister’s ashes are returned to our ancestors, may Naga watch over her soul. your sister’s ashes are buried today, and that signals the end of her mourning period.” He placed one last kiss and prayer on his daughter’s tomb, and then raised himself to his full height, looking down upon his only son and grandchild with stern eyes.“Tomorrow,  you must rise as a crown prince and do a duty you weren’t born to do. I do not expect you to rise to your sister’s standard, but I do expect you to try. Be at the council meeting next Monday.”

Chrom challenged his father’s gaze, and nodded, but Robin protested in his stead. “My king, with all due respect, he can barely speak.” She pleaded, but when the exalt’s eyes settled on his daughter-in-law, there was no compassion.

“Then he will learn to listen!” He bellowed harshly, and Robin was visibly taken aback by the outburst. Lucina cried out, and Chrom immediately held her closer to his body, sharing his own conviction with his small child. His father’s eyes widened, and then narrowed again. In one sweeping motion he turned around and walked away from his daughter’s last resting place. From a distance, they could barely hear his whisper. “Naga knows I should have done that more in my past.”

Despite how much Robin protested, Chrom did rise the next day as a crown prince. The heir’s crown that had previously belonged to Emmeryn rested uncomfortably on his head, but in Emmeryn’s name he would bear it. With Fredrick’s help, he attended council meeting and court room alike, despite not being able to walk or speak properly. Partially it was too just forget his grief. If he just kept his hands busy, then his mind would not stray to summer days spend with just the three of them. The other part of him had a different motivation, angry and vengeful. Over the months his health returned to him and so did his conviction to slay all those who had been responsible for his sister’s murder.

He searched high and low. In the dungeons, the sole survivor of the attack remained silent no matter the treat. Chrom had already cut off his nose, toes and smashed in his teeth, and still the man remained silent. He was close to giving the man death the same way he had killed his sister, but that would have been merciful.

When he was able to ride again, they rode to the Plegian border to present their daughter to her other home country. The child was already six months old at the time, and a girl to boot. She was not their sacrifice, and secretly Chrom was happy that the nobles of Plegia were less than enthusiastic about his baby daughter. Robin met with her father in private, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not find a way for his personal spy Gaius to listen in on their conversation without placing the man in the line of danger. The former thief had a child of his own on the way, and after his previous guard had died and left two orphans behind, he had vowed to never steal a child of their parent again.

Robin had smiled belittling at him when he had confessed that to her, saying that there would always be war, and even if there wouldn’t be than there were still prisoners and murderers with families of their own. He had pretended not to hear her over Lucina’s demanding cries for attention. She was his pride and joy, her blue hair soft as the wind and her eyes as blue as the sky. All those hours locked up in the castle, attending meetings and balls instead of training with his Shepperds were all worth her freedom and safety. She would be an exalt one day, but before that she would be his daughter and she would know how much he loved her. Even in the heat of the autumn desert, she laid carelessly in his arms, content to just be close to him. He wondered what he wouldn’t do for her.

But Robin was right. Sooner or later there would always be war. The steady peace between their two countries held in the wake of their marriage. Plegia accepted that their princess was now next in line for succession, and liked him all the better for it. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought that Validar had planned it like this all along.

But no, the man adored his grandchild and would have never staged an attack on her. Unlike his own father who kept a solemn distance between himself and his son’s only child, Validar had held and cuddled her from the moment they had arrived at the Plegian capital and had refused to let go of her until his crown demanded it of him. He had insisted on washing her in holy water blessed by Grima and had gifted Lucina treasures of unspeakable wealth. Plegia had always been rumored to possess more wealth then they let on, and for the first time Chrom wondered if the war reparations had any impact on the country’s economy. If it did, it didn’t show. Lucina’s Plegian diadem was covered in dark gold and rubies, and he had to admit it looked beautiful on her. For a second, Robin’s own lack of jewelry surprised him, but then he realized she had never been one to show off any wealth she possessed. Her role as sacrifice of her people ill befitted gold and rubies. Still, the joy in his eyes when Lucina smiled at him could not be faked and for a moment he doubted Robin’s accounts of her own childhood with her distant father. This man was nothing like that.

And yet, amidst all the joy, something bugged him. Gaius and Fredrick confided in him that they felt it as well and yet they couldn’t quite put their finger on it. That was, until the second week of their biannual visit to Plegia. The moment Gaius came into his room unannounced seconds after sunset Chrom knew something was horribly wrong. “A message from the capital, milord.”

Gaius tone and words were too serious for the news to be anything but bad. “At ease Gaius. Now tell me what is wrong at once.”

“The assassin spoke after they cut his hamstrings several times.” Chrom was altogether surprised that the man still had feeling in his legs after all the torture he and his father had put him through. “He’s from Plegia. He wouldn’t say who gave him the order, but the fact remains is that none would have as much advantage of your sister’s death as the very King that rules this castle. Your father bids you to come home at once, and so does your younger sister, although with kinder words.”

All the grief he had carefully put away the past few months crashed upon him at once, and for a second he was unable to speak. “Plegia…  are you certain?” Gaius nodded, chewing on something no doubt incredibly sweet. “Putting such a blame on the King’s head… it is no easy accusation to make. I cannot say it hadn’t occurred to me before. Prey tell me my father isn’t mobilizing an army already?”

Gaius ruse of formality broke with sympathy. “I’m afraid he is, Blue.” He confirmed Chrom’s worst fear gravely. “Ya should have seen him, let’s put it this way: I can see where you get your rage from.”

He hated himself when he was like that. “Thank you.” He ground out bitterly at Gaius, who knew he had hit sore spot.

The spy didn’t care. “Truth is, if you allow me to overstep my place, you gotta get home immediately or you have another war at your doorstep. And to be honest, with the current developments in Valm, you and your wifey should band together instead of fight each other.”

Chrom’s eyes went wide. “You know about Valm?” His father and he had labored endlessly to create an illusion of lasting peace, and he was unaware that the conquest in the west had become common knowledge.

Gaius gave him one mocking glance. “Duh, Blue. I’m a spy. Information is like, my job.” Chrom felt stupid for a moment, until his spy continued. “Besides, despite how hard the crown is trying to keep the people ignorant of a potential future war, people aren’t stupid. All the refugees crowding the city… they would have to be blind and deaf not to know at least something was brewing.”

“You’re right, of course.” He admitted, fingering the scar on his chest. “But Emmeryn….” She deserved her justice. Months he had waited, and now he could finally do something about it! He was in Plegia, the hole of his mouse he had been chasing for so long. If only he had time to search, he was confident he would find the culprit and make him pay for his sins.

“Is dead.” Gaius finished heartlessly for him. Chrom gripped Falchion, the anger surging up in his chest instantly. Gaius held up his hands in defense. “Hey, don’t look at me like that! Don’t kill the messenger! I’m just saying the truth your highness! She’s not coming back, but if you’re not careful, others you care about might follow her into the grave and do you really want that?”

“Of course not!” He growled back, mentally forcing himself to let go of his anger. He was crown prince now. This is not how Emmeryn would have done it.

Gaius sighed deeply. “Then go home, shush your kingliness, let your wifey work her magic on the Feroxians and boom! We might survive this.”

Robin would know what to do. “I’ll speak to her first.”

“Are you sure?” Questioned his spy. “Don’t get me wrong, but she’s Plegian still. I like her a lot! But she has always been a tad mysterious. We know little of her before her father became king and you married her. She’s a wildcard.”

Chrom’s brow furrowed deeper. “Gaius, she had just given birth when the assassin came. It couldn’t have been her.” He personally felt insulted that he had the nerve to even suspect his wife!

“Exactly. It couldn’t have been her. She has the perfect alibi.” Gaius countered paranoid “Too perfect.”

If there was some sense in his words, Chrom refused to see it. “You’re looking too deep into this.” He dismissed the spy. “Validar didn’t do this. There was an assassin trying to kill our daughter. Have you seen the man with our child? He adores her! Besides, he needs our son.”

A lecherous smile appeared on Gaius face. “Is your wifey pregnant already?” Despite the fact that he was a father already and Gaius would soon be one as well, he still turned bright red at the implication of his words. “Good job Blue, I didn’t know you had it in you!”

“She isn’t, thank you very much.” He said curtly, trying to ignore his laughter. “And she is my wife and confidante. I’ll talk to her tonight, and that’s final.”

“Whatever you want your highlyness.” Gaius mocked him, eating another candy from some well hidden pocket. “Then, I’ll be packing my bags. And, y’know, maybe looking through some other people’s bags as well.”

Despite his words, he was glad he had taken the man along all those years ago. “Thank you Gaius, that would be all.” Chrom dismissed him, and Gaius made some mockery of a bow and disappeared out of the window.

That night he waited in their shared bed till his wife joined him. There was something off about her. She fed their child silently and refused to answer his questions about her secret conversations with her own father. When he spoke of the fact that the assassin had finally broken his silence, something in her visage turned fearful, if only for a second.

Suddenly, a puzzle piece or two fell into place. “My father revealed that the assassins came from Plegia, but then again, you already knew that.” It was a bluff, but it worked.

Robin placed Lucina gently back in her crib, and turned to face him. “What was I supposed to say, hey dear husband, did you know your sister was murdered by my kinsmen?” Her voice was all controlled anger, no shame or denial at all.

“Yes!” He exclaimed without thinking. “Any lead that could bring Emmeryn justice would have sufficed! Like I care that you’re Plegian, did you never think I would have wanted to know?”

“Oh, just like I would have wanted to know that you killed my own sister?” She bellowed back, silencing Chrom in shock. When he didn’t say anything, she grew even more angry. “You don’t even try to deny it! Aversa was my sister, even though you think she was evil. She wasn’t, she was misguided. Always my father’s favorite like I was my mother’s. We hardly saw each other while we were growing up, because she was so talented. Her sons would rule the kingdom forever, my father always said, because no child of hers could be anything but brilliant. And she was a genius, which is why he married her off to the ruling family, to Grangrel, that mad dog. That day you killed her, she fought for her people, not her husband, not even all the children that died before she could give birth to them.”

“I’m not sorry I killed her, okay! It ended a war! She was a warrior on the battle field, not a defenseless woman slain in her own bedroom!” He slammed his fist against the headboard of their shared bed, and it splintered under his rage.

“Don’t think you’re the only one who knows grief. I was auctioned off by my father to you like cattle!. Me, always the second choice, not too long after I lost my beloved older sister. But did I resent you for it? No! My mother is dead! My sister is dead! Stop wallowing in self pity because you’re not the only person who has lost people they are about!”

In the back of his mind, he knew people who weren’t supposed to hear this were listening in, but his anger was too much to keep in check. “I never said that!”

“But you have shut me out the past few months! You hardly touch me anymore, you lock me out of your council meetings and now you demand to know what I spoke of with my father. Do you not see the hypocrisy of your own ways?” Her voice was cruel and loud, cutting through his heart like a silver knife.

“Well, I’m sorry!” He shouted back earnestly, putting his hands on her shoulders. She shivered under his touch, her eyes going wide.

“What? You are?” She stuttered out, all harsh tones and anger lost in a single touch.

Unshed tears glistered in his eyes and he spoke hoarsely. “I’m sorry! I’m not good with grief. I’m not good without Emmeryn at all!” He confessed what had kept him up for hours and hours for the past few months. “But I’m trying, and I know I’m leaving you and the Shepherds behind in doing so but I don’t know any other way! And now my father is preparing an army because he thinks your father was behind the attack, and Valm is coming closer and closer and I don’t know what to do anymore...”

“I understand his reasoning. We must return to Ylisstol at once. Let us be a team again, like we were when I was pregnant. Together, we will convince him to raise his army at the right foe. We’ll speed up your sister’s marriage to Basillio’s successor so that the entire continent will be bound to you by marriage. Then, we strike back with our combined forces.” He could see her mind creating and discarding plans in mere seconds, and all his troubles that had kept him up many a night before, were solved before his very eyes. When she stopped talking and noticed his incredulous look, she cupped his scarred face and kissed him deeply for the first time in months. “Not all is lost my love. You mustn’t loose hope.”

 _‘My love’_ , it fell out of her mouth so easily, and yet it repaired so much in his own broken mind and body. “Oh gods, how have I survived all these years without your clever insight?” He exclaimed desperately, earning him an amused giggle.

With her by his side, he could never be truly lost. And with that thought he grasped her in his arms, all anger and despair transforming into love and lust for a woman long neglected. She was a willing target of his affections, and before the sun would rise again the only sounds that could be heard from their room were her delightful grasps and shrieks of pleasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The heir’s crown is basically Lucina’s/Marth’s crown. I got the idea from the nohr siblings to be honest, who all wear some kind of circlet/crown to signify their royal birth. Also, the reason Gaius (and a few more other shepherds behind his back) call Robin Chrom’s ‘wifey’ is because he speaks so possessively of her. I tried to portray this as well in my writing, how he hardly thinks of her as Robin and more commonly as his wife. They make fun of him because of it from time to time, but Chrom doesn’t notice this or the fact that he is doing it in the first place. Hail Grima!


	6. Valm Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daddy Issues and Dark, Bitter War. Oh, and Death.

The arrangements were made with relative ease once Robin took over. By the next morning she had convinced her father to fight for a common cause, and he agreed to lend her ships and as much money as she required. Within a fortnight, they were back home in Ylisstol and were able to talk Lissa into agreeing to the marriage proposal from Regna Ferox. Like Robin had predicted beforehand, it took minimal effort to convince her to marry Basillio’s successor. When they first broached the subject, she blushed prettily in a way that made Chrom question just how much she had gotten to know the swordsman during her many diplomatic visits to the country.

 Nevertheless he was glad that she was more enthusiastic about her marriage than he had been a few years ago, and it eased his conscience a little. The Khan was quick to reply with his own agreement to both the war and the marriage, and within a month Robin had given him ships, an army and allies.

 There was only one thing that only he could accomplish, and that was convincing his father of his cause to raise their army at the right foe.  He suspected it would be hard, and Robin had agreed that she shouldn’t be present for the inevitable battle of wills between father and son. He had intended to talk to his father after the first council meeting he could attend so they could speak it over in private. In the end, it didn’t go according to plan. However, the Exalt had gotten wind of his scheming. “Are you planning to overthrow me, boy?” He challenged him in front of the entire Ylissean Royal Council, and Chrom felt like he was on trial.

 "Certainly not, Father.“ Chrom replied truthfully.

 The old King rose in his high chair that presided the council meeting. "Then, pray tell me, have you been raising an army behind my back it not to grab power for yourself?”

 Anger ignited within Chrom. “Why, you ask me?” He gritted out between his teeth. “Why? There is an army at our borders and you ask me why?”

 A cynical smile appeared on his father’s face that made Chrom’s eyes narrow dangerously.

 "Which army do you speak of, the Feroxians you invited or the Plegians you courted?“

 "The Valmese army of course!” The prince bellowed through the hall.

 His father shook his head resolutely. “They are not at our borders.” He said matter-of-factly, taking a sip of his wine. “If anything, they will raise Regna Ferox and Plegia to the ground. Good riddance I would say.” That elicited some frowns from the other council members.

 "Regna Ferox has been our ally for decades, and I will personally stand for Plegia’s allegiance. I’d rather have them as our neighbors any day over a bloodthirsty conqueror!“ Chrom hissed back in rage. "Can’t you see that we are all on the same continent, of the same blood?”

The king’s eyes narrowed, a foul expression on his face. “That woman has poisoned your mind.” He concluded to his council as if he hadn’t chosen for him in the first place.

 The insult to Robin was the last straw for him, as he forgot all decorum he had left and rose from his chair, ready to defend her good name. “No, my mind is clear and my eyes are wide open. It is you who has been poisoned with bitterness and vengeance!”

 "Silent, insolent child! You forget whom you speak against!“ His father rebuked him like had done when Chrom was still a small child. It had always reduced him to shivers and tears when he was young.

 But he was  a child no more, and with that thought in mind, Chrom spoke the words he knew were true. "No, I will not be silenced when my people need me to speak up!” A few council members spoke amongst themselves upon hearing his words. Their hushed whispers grounded Chrom back to reality and remembered exactly where they were having this conversation. When he spoke again his voice was calm and commanding, an echo of a man Chrom had once admired. “Can you not see that Emmeryn will not be returned to us by another petty war against our neighbors, while Valm runs over all of us?”

 "Do not speak of her name!“ His voice carried the strength and hurt of a million men, and Chrom had no doubt that if he had been within reach, he would have been hit.

 Emboldened by righteous anger and determination, Chrom walked right up in front of his father, daring him to do so.  "No, I will speak of her name, for I will fight in her name. Emmeryn desired peace above else, and I will bring it in her name if you will not! If this continent is to be united against a common foe, then so be it. We cannot allow Valm to enter our lands, and we must make it clear to him that we will not lay down and let him do so any longer.” His tone was directly challenging to his father, and an adrenaline rush not unlike he had felt on the battlefield came over him as he saw the exalt back away to his voice.

 Another voice, more feminine than all the others interrupted before either King or Prince could speak another word. The Domestic Military Commander spoke in even tones to him. “Then how, my prince, do you propose we do this?”

 Chrom was caught off guard by Philia’s words, but recovered quickly knowing that all eyes were on him. “My wife has already thought out several strategies. We are convinced that a preemptive strike on the continent of Valm will be most effective.”

 A wave of disbelief was almost tangible in the grand council room. “And to deliver them the home advantage? Is she mad?” Philia questioned harshly, voicing many a thought.

 Chrom gritted his teeth. “No, she is not afraid to take action, as am I.” Then, he turned away from his father and towards the people whom instead he sought to convince, knowing they listened to his every word with something akin to morbid curiosity. “The first forces have already landed in Ferox. If we start mobilizing tomorrow, we can ride out in a fortnight and control the damage. If my sources are correct, Walhart is a man of power. He will not bow to a diplomatic solution. However, if we show him our strength we might just be able to threaten him into one. We have already made contacts within the local resistance, and they are willing to provide help in any way they can.”

 "And you believe this is the only way.“ Philia questioned him when he had delivered his speech.

 "No.” He said resolutely, and without facing the man he aimed his words at his father alone. “No we could wait here and die. There is always that. To see our people suffer again against a force we cannot handle. The Valmese cavalry is superior to our forces, and we cannot allow them to trample our lands and crops. It wouldn’t be a question of if we would lose, it would be a question of when.”

 Another member of the council rose to his feet. “Beautiful words, my prince, but what about the funds?” The minister of finances questioned wisely. “After years of war our treasury isn’t exactly full, my prince, and I am inclined not to spend the little we have on another war so soon after the last.”

 “I am. Which is why Plegia, as a sign of good will, has agreed to cover all the expenses.” This caused a ripple of disbelief through the council, but when he handed the Minister of Finances the signed agreement from King Validar, the man nodded in approval. “And if we take the war away from our lands, future costs of reparations could be spared.” He added diplomatically while the man scanned over the contract. It was foolproof, as it had been designed by Robin herself.

“And Regna Ferox, have they also agreed to ally us?” The minister of foreign policy questioned despite that Chrom knew he was aware of the fact.

 “With their entire military force, including both legendary Khans.” He said nevertheless. “They are willing to do what has to be done, as is Plegia. Can Ylisse really stay behind?”

 “No Prince Chrom, we cannot.” Commander Philia conceded to him while read the agreement herself “You have obviously thought this out well, and your plans sound very promising. Could you perhaps hand over a copy of these plans to my office?”

 Robin had luckily prepared him for such a question, and he had brought her maps and strategic plans with him to the meeting to convince his father. Now, he handed them to Philia, knowing that they were in good hands. “I have them right here, and would be very willing to go over them with you together with my wife whenever is convenient.”

 Before Philia could say another word, the King rose from his chair in indignation and snatched them from their hands. “You will do no such thing!” He bellowed, throwing the valuable papers on the ground.

Commander Philia frowned deeply at his volatile behavior. “With all due respect, my king. Prince Chrom has a valid point, and for too long the military council has pleaded your highness to do something about the incoming threat. The Duke of Rosanne has also made numerous pleas, and truly I think the time of waiting and feuding between ourselves is over.” Her voice was even and respectful in a way that Chrom could only hope to ever achieve, but her eyes were made of the fires of hell. “It is within the Crown Prince’s rights to call for a voting of the Royal Council. Should we reach a majority, it is within his right to raise an army to battle, with or without your consent. These were the terms you agreed on when you named him your heir.”

 For a moment, the King was struck speechless. With wide eyes, he took a few careful steps backwards. “You are all traitors! Guards, arrest all of them!” He bellowed in rage, but they did not move an inch. Instead, all that were gathered looked that their Crown Prince for command, and Chrom realized instantly that he could take his father’s crown right now if he would so desire.

 But that had never been his intention, and instead he surprised everyone present but his father most of all when he rose to his knees in front of his father. “Father, please.” He begged humbly, feeling many eyes burning in his back. “I had thought to speak with you of this privately, but you have forced my hand. I do not wish to overthrow you, but merely ask for your blessing to do what I know I must do in Naga’s name.”

 He dared to meet his father’s eyes then, and he found them mixed with confusion and disbelief. But he didn’t speak a word.

 "Do not kneel, My Prince.“ Instead of his father, Philia called out to him, and he knew that he had somehow passed a test of sorts. "Call our vote, and we shall grant you the power to protect our country.”

 Chrom still didn’t rise but kept his father’s gaze. For the first time in their lives, something of an understanding passed between them. When the exalt lowered his eyes Chrom knew he had one. “On one condition, I will allow it!” He thundered while Chrom got back up.

 “Name it father, and I will see it done.” He swore with his hand on the sword that had once belonged to the man in front of him.

 The exalt looked older than he truly was, and Chrom wondered exactly how much had been lost of him the day Emmeryn died. “You will lead them yourself, with your clever wife besides you. Your sister as well. If you will raise a banner in your late sister’s name, I want you to know what it is like to be responsible for all the lives, to shed the blood of your enemies and put your life on the line.” He decreed with a clipped tone. “This is your plan, and you will see it through from the beginning till the end. And when it goes down like it inevitably will, it will be your neck on the line, and not mine. Those are my terms.”

 "I accept.“ Chrom replied without thinking.

 Others were quick to join him. "As do I.” Philia accepted, and the other council members save two agreed with a chores of “Aye!” and “Accepted.”

 His father rose to his high chair again with the shreds of his dignity. “Then it is decreed that from this day forward Crown Prince Chrom of Ylisse has full power over Ylisse’s military forces to fend off the Valmese invaders.” His voice was tired as were his eyes, but to Chrom, it was a victory all the same.

 And with those words the council was adjourned. When Chrom left the room all bowed to him, even the guards. He had no doubt in mind that the word of his accomplishment would soon spread all over the castle, if not the capital. He hoped it wouldn’t sow dissent instead of the union that he sought to create.

 "Commander Philia, thank you for your support.“ He thanked the older woman when she fell into pace beside him.

 She met his gaze squarely. "If you will allow me to speak so bluntly, my lord, it was about time we did something about Valm. The time for waiting is far past.”

 A wave of shame washed over Chrom. "I apologize that I didn’t take action earlier.” He spoke formally, but  Philia immediately waved his concern away.

 "There is no need. You have searched for a diplomatic and peaceful solution, like your late sister would have done. I cannot fault you for that, now or ever.” And in her eyes he was met with a pain he hadn’t expected to find, one so similar to the one he carried with him every day. “You have my full support in this war my Prince,” she said when he reached his personal quarters where his wife was waiting for him.

 A spark of fondness ignited in his chest. "Thank you Philia, I’m glad to have you at my back.”

With a bow that was inappropriately deep for a mere prince, she begged her leave.

 When he entered the room and told his wife of his success, she embraced him deeply. Lucina was nestled safely between them, content to pull on her mother’s hair while they spoke. While she was proud, Robin warned him that the worst was yet to come. Of course, her words came true.

 The generals were impressed by Robin’s plans and only made a few minor adjustments according to their army’s size. The day after his sister was married to Lon’qu in all royal splendor, the troops were mobilized and ready to march with their Crown Prince at their front. When he left Lucina waved him goodbye from her grandfather’s arms, who held her with surprising gentleness. As their identical blue hair faded out of sight, he hoped he hadn’t made a mistake.

 However there were small blessings, such as having his Shepherds reunited at his side. Nobody made a campfire like quite Fredrick, or told stories like Sumia. They came along, despite the fact that their own daughter was mere weeks old and Chrom promised himself to end this war swiftly if only for little Cynthia’s sake alone. Miriel had entrusted her young son to her family, as had Cordelia and Nowi and they once again gathered at his side to fight with him. When they all sat gathered around the campfire at night, he felt blessed that he had friends that agreed that this was a fool’s quest and yet joined him en masse either way. (At some point he would wish they hadn’t, but then it was already too late.)

 That Lissa and Lon’qu had to celebrate their honeymoon on the road seemed to bother neither of them, and by the time they reached the harbors of Ferox Robin alerted him that was showing the early telltale signs of pregnancy. Despite his ardent complains, Lissa continued their quest to Valm, albeit on a dark Pegasus.

 Along the way, they picked up a few more old friends of Robin by the names of Tharja and Henry, two mages with whom she had studied together. Their devotion to their princess scared him more often than not, but they were good soldiers that had her back, and that was a small blessing if nothing else.

 But war isn’t fun, despite the stories of glory and honor that survive it. It is sleeping on a rocky cold ground, uncertain if you will wake up in the morning. It is mud in your shoes and rain on your face and blood on your hands. It is death, either by your hand or your enemies, and otherwise by the an infection. It is mourning and proceeding when there is no hope, and none of what Chrom had faced in Plegia before could have prepared him for the two years of seemingly never-ending slaughter he faced on their campaign to Valm.

 They took heavy losses before they even managed to leave the continent, and in a daring scheme, Robin burned half of their fleet in order to take down Valm’s. It was successful, but all came at a price of blood. Nowi, ever daring, was the last to leave the ships, determined not to keep them aflame when some of them wouldn’t burn. With an easy smile she urged them to continue, saying that a mighty dragon would easily catch up with their little boats. They waited at the coast for her return for many days, but all in vain. The spirited manakete never returned. Nor did Cordelia, who set out to retrieve her.

 And they weren’t the only one. Their road towards the Valmese capital was one paved with blood and bodies of young men and women who died fighting for his cause. What was supposed to be a blitzkrieg turned into a slow war as they had to fight for every square meter they moved towards the capital. Every night, Robin would recount their losses to him and he would bear the news with stoic acceptance. This is what his father had wanted him to learn, crossed his mind more than once during such meetings, and he knew it was a lesson he would never forget. Sometimes the names of his friends were amongst the ever growing list of fallen warriors, and their campfire meetings became ever smaller. It seemed like they were always short of just a handful of warriors when they needed it most to make it out unscratched. Even with Robin’s brilliant tactics not all could be spared, and Basilio, Libra, Miriel and many innocent young soldiers paid the price with their lives.

 Their contacts with the resistance failed them time and again as the men and women who had claimed to back their every word took the coward’s path to join their invader. Though some fought by their side till the end, their betrayal was a bitter pill to swallow. Even the Divine Dragon’s Voice could not talk reason to them, and she was forced to flee from her sanctuary as they burned the ancient tree that had been her home for many centuries to the ground.

 When they finally reached the palace after one and a half year of nearly constant fighting, Chrom wondered if it had all been worth it. They had cut a hole through the Valmese empire to get there, but he knew that if they couldn’t take down Walhart,all would be for naught.

 But the conqueror was both strong and honorable, and agreed to meet him one on one, despite the fact that the army at his back outnumbered Chrom’s easily. They met without horses, just a sword and an axe between them, and with the power of a thousand men who had given their lives for this moment he managed to land blow after blow on the man that could not be fought. He gave it everything he had, and when the killing blow came it was his to deal. But the wounds Chrom had sustained by an assassination attempt earlier were worsened by the many more that were dealt by the conqueror, who conceded defeat with his dying breath, and he knew that neither of them would ever fight again.

 The remaining lords, eager to take over the vacuum of power that was created in their leader’s absence, agreed to a treaty created by Virion and Robin. The widower was gracious to his wife’s murderers to the very end, but it hurt him to do so more than anything else. Nevertheless it was a treaty, albeit shaky and signed with blood. They were safe, Chrom told himself time and again when they marched home with half of the people they had set out in the beginning one and a half year ago.

 When they reached Ylisstol four seasons later, the scars on his face had healed to a point that they merely ached from time to time. None of them had returned unharmed, but at least his sister was still alive as well as both her husband and young son. His own wife’s belly was swollen with their child, but neither had the energy to have the same worries they had last time. War had changed all of them, and when Fredrick begged his retirement the night before they returned home, Chrom granted it to him with full honors. Most of his other friends followed his example within the next year or so in order to spend some time with the family they had left. They had all seen too much, and victory didn’t taste at all like it was rumored to be. The glory days of the Shepherds were over, and Chrom knew it all too well.

 At the castle, his father awaited him with his hand in Lucina’s. The trumpets sounded and the musicians played themes of victory, but all Chrom could do was run to his little daughter and fall to his knees in front of her. When he pulled his small child close, he shed every care for decorum and showed his tears freely. Her tiny arms came around him as she called him papa over and over again. Some of his tears were of happiness, for not once had he let himself to believe that she would remember him.

 When he rose to his feet so Robin could embrace their daughter, he met his father’s eyes. The man had aged, but not as much as himself. He knew the scars made him look older, and he felt the part.

 “You’re back.” The exalt said solemnly.

 Chrom took a deep breath. “As is Lissa, and her son.” But Philia wasn’t, and like many others she would never return again and it hurt more and more with every step he set in his country.

There was some tangible hurt in the man’s eyes, but then he closed them and it was gone when he spoke again. “I am glad you are safe.”

 “Thank you for taking care of my daughter.” Robin bowed deeply to the Exalt, and to their surprise he returned the favor.

 “Thank you for taking care of my country.” His words weren’t only meant for him, but the exalt’s eyes were glued to the ancient sword that was hanging at Chrom’s hip when he spoke them.

And that was all that was said between them. In music, a silence often speaks louder than any tone.

 Instead his father bellowed for the crowd to kneel, and then ordered him to do so as well. Chrom complied and the music grew quiet. The exalt took Falchion from the sheath that dangled from his son’s hip, and held it high up in the air. For a moment he feared the worst. Then, without a warning he took the heir’s crown from Chrom’s head and offered it to his young grandchild, who gladly accepted a crown many times too large for her.

 “I welcome my son and his army back to Yllistol. He has fought valiantly so all of us may know peace, and has proven himself to be a leader worthy of his name.” The old exalt spoke solemnly, and besides him he could hear Robin gasp in understanding that had yet to dawn on him.

 On the steps of the Royal Castle, his father turned his words back to his son. “Chrom of Ylisse, do you vow to serve your people first and foremost, no matter the cost and regardless of your personal needs?”

 “I do.” Chrom vowed, as he had done in all but words for the past few years.

“And do you vow to uphold the laws of this country, for they are bestowed upon us by Naga herself, and to speak only the truth even it leads to your death?”

 “I do.” He repeated truthfully without grasping the extent of it.

 “Do you vow to be without fear in the face of your enemies, and to be ever merciful to the helpless, and to always act in a manner that Naga herself would love you?”

 Without hesitation he completed his vow. “I do, father.”

 His father sighed, but for once it was not one of grief or disappointment. “Then with the almighty Naga as my witness and solely on these terms I abdicate the throne in favor of my son.” Without further ceremony he took the crown from his own head and put in on his flabbergasted son’s. “Now rise, Exalted King of Ylisse! May your reign be long and just!”

 Dazed and wide eyed, Chrom rose to his feet. His father’s eyes were tired yet proud, and Chrom only then fully grasped that he was King now. Around him a thunderous applause sounded, and even his father bowed before him. Not far behind him kneeled the remainders of his Shepherds, in various phases of shock. His sister’s eyes were wide, and when she lowered her eyes from his he felt wrong. The only one who remained standing beside him was Lucina, too young to know the significance of the large crown in her hands.

Robin was the first to rise, and when she did another roar of applause sounded. The proven grandmaster of Ylisse in turn bowed to her father-in-law to receive a small crown that belonged to a crowned queen-consort, and all Chrom could think of was how unreal this situation had become. His Shepherds were knighted one by one.

 Needless to say, coming home wasn’t quite like last time. There was no great sense of purpose or a forced engagement, rather a feeling of being lost among the familiar halls of his childhood home. When the crowds cheered for their new Exalt on his morning stroll he told himself to smile, for these were the people he had sought to protect in the first place. And he had succeeded. He battled his new duties as exalt with as much determination as he had fought during the war, but the new position still seemed too sudden and new for a man that had just returned from a bloody war with scars on both body and soul. But when little Laurent, Severa and Gerome were brought to court to be educated alongside Lucina because both their parents died in a war he started, nothing could stop the tears that welled up at night. Little Nah had stayed at the countryside at Donnel’s family, in the hope that the missing soldier might return one day to reclaim her.

 Lucina at least grew up with both a mother and a father, he repeated to himself in the dark of the night, and their next child would live in an era of peace. Owain wouldn’t remember the blood that had been spilled mere meters from his crib during the war, nor would any of the other children that were born during the campaign. Or so he hoped at least. They took the children in as if they were their own, and Lucina seemed happy with the playmates she’d never had before. He’d sworn that as an exalt he’d protect the helpless, and felt that it was the least he could do with his newfound position. But despite the fact that his days were full and busy, he didn’t sleep so well anymore.

 Every night he held his wife’s wrist in his one hand while his other rested on her expanded belly. Only to the sound of her breathing and heartbeat would some sleep come to him, but it was never quite enough. As the months passed and the hard won peace treaty  with Valm held, some semblance of rest returned to him.

 That was until Robin went into labor. It was a long, harsh and painful ordeal, much worse than with Lucina. He had held his sister’s hand as she had given birth to her son, and no maid or midwife could stop either of them from returning the favor to Robin this time around. When the little head finally came out it was covered in blue hair, and with calming words he guided the child out of his wife himself. Lissa cut the cord quickly as he bathed the child.

 When a cleric came to check up on the child, he refused to give it to her. Not even Lissa could pry the small, crying child from his hands. The moment Robin met his eyes, she knew why, and she opened her arms wide for her baby, crying in both exhaustion in fear. Chrom held her close, falling to his knees in tears as well.

When Lissa asked him why they were crying the new parents were too distraught to answer. Why, Naga, why Grima? Why give them a son only to take him away almost immediately after?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the world certainly conspired against me to write this, that is for sure! Anyway, this is the penultimate chapter. I had to rush the Valmese war a little as I have always felt that it had little actual relevance to the world plot. So, no gritty war, just non graphic death scenes. Also, enjoy the daddy issues, because that is half of this chapter I am afraid. Furthermore, I would be happy if you would not kill me for killing almost everyone, but hey, am I Grima or not? (Hail Grima!)


	7. The King’s Chambers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The REAL penultimate chapter, which is also the size of two chapters. Slowly, the plot comes together.

Their first born son would belong to Plegia from the moment he was born. That had been the agreement made years ago, when he and Robin agreed to this arrangement. It had been a fair deal five years ago, a princess in return for a prince. But now, with his tiny son laying in his mother’s arms, he knew that to a father giving away any infant son could never be a fair deal

Robin was beyond panic and had latched herself to her son ever since he was born. None safe for Chrom were allowed to hold him, and even then only for short amounts of time. His levelheaded wife had lost her mind at the prospect of losing the child she had carried with her for nine long and painful months, and he could not blame her. She had deduced many strategies to keep her child, ranging from faking her son’s death to pretend he was a girl for the rest of his life. Neither of these things were fair to their newborn though, and he had persuaded her not to take drastic measures. But he understood her fear to part with another loved one after they had lost so many. Cherche had still been with them when she had found out she was pregnant, only to fall from a great height mere days later and never wake up again. So many others had fought for their child to live, and now her father would take him away from them? Not for the first time he wished that the boy had been born a girl.

But his hope was futile, because before a fortnight passed the first Wyvern Lords appeared in the sky with the intention to make sure Ylisse upheld their part of the deal. As the Exalted King, he was able to politely refuse their request to take the child with them. What if he would fall off a Wyvern? Not so long ago a friend of theirs had met that tragic fate, and they wouldn’t risk it with their newborn son. The Plegians could hardly rebuke such a statement from the King himself, and by the end of the day they left again. But Chrom knew they would come back, and before the end of the next month they did. This time they were on horseback, with a royal carriage accompanying them. When Validar stepped out of said carriage, Chrom knew he had ran out of excuses.

“Welcome, dear father-in-law. It has been too long since we’ve seen you.” He greeted the other king politely, and the man bowed and returned the gesture.

“Where is my daughter? I had expected her to greet me as well.”

“She’s sick.” Was the first excuse that came to Chrom’s mind. “Ever since she gave birth to our child.” He elaborated when the man looked at him questioningly.

“Is that so?” Validar’s brow furrowed, worry apparent in his tone.

“But I’m sure she will feel much better after a visit from her father.” He said kindly, hoping to cover up his lie in case Robin was feeling better today.

He hadn’t needed to do so. According to Sumia, who had been guarding her ever since she had reverted to her hermit state, Robin had started crying and screaming the moment she heard of her father’s arrival, up until she fell asleep from exhaustion. Morgan rested safely within her grasp, and even Fredrick, by far the strongest of the four of them, couldn’t break her hold on him even in her sleep. In the end Chrom had excused his wife and claimed that her illness consumed too much of her health for her to make a public appearance. His father in law was ruffled, but also a King for too long to be impolite about it.

Robin managed to feign excuses up until the last day of the Plegian Royal visit. Her father was beginning to lose his patience and illusion of charm, demanding to see his grandchild with more fervor every day. Just to spite him Chrom had presented Lucina to him once, who had gladly absorbed all the attention of her Plegian grandfather. Not unlike his own father, the King could not refuse any request put forward by his young daughter, and the stories of the 1000 Plegian Knights kept him busy for awhile.

But eventually he couldn’t hide Robin nor his son any longer, and he was forced to allow the man into their private quarters. There sat Robin, dressed in her nightgown and looking ever as sick as he had pretended she was. When she faltered slightly upon standing, he rushed to her side to accompany her. Her cold hands in his were a reminder of what they had sworn to be, and he hoped it would be enough to keep their son.

To Chrom’s surprise, Robin handed their son to her father without complaint.

The Plegian King handled the child delicately, letting the little gloved fingers grasp one of his own. “Congratulations on your newborn child, my daughter. You have done well.” He said quietly, a proud smile on his face.

 “Thank you father.” Robin said softly, her voice weaker than it usually was.

“I will take care of him as if he were my own, Robin. This I will assure you my daughter. And you will have no restrictions in visiting him.” The King promised his daughter, and as on cue their little child started crying and squirming. Robin quickly took him back from her father’s grasp until the small baby calmed down a little.

 “I’m sorry father, but I cannot part with my child yet.” She said in a way that almost made Chrom believe her words. “He’s sickly and doesn’t do well around others.” This was news to him as well, but he tried to hide it.

“As were you when you were young, if I remember correctly.” Validar dismissed her words quickly, looking greedily at their little son. “Your mother coddled you too much as well. Maybe some distance will do him good.”

“It won’t father.” Robin said resolutely. “He won’t even accept a nursemaid’s milk, and I’ve been forced to do it myself or he’d starve.” Now all of that was a gross lie. Morgan was a very easy child, much easier than Lucina had been in fact, but her father didn’t have to know that.

Validar’s brow furrowed dangerously low. “He is my grandchild and heir by law, Robin. I understand that it is hard for a parent to part with their child but don’t you want the best for Plegia?”  

“It is Plegia’s best interests that I have in mind, Father.” His daughter replied in an almost professional tone, like a tactician might use against her army. “The pregnancy took a toll on my body, and it is unlikely I’ll bear another child anytime soon. In such… perilous times, it would be unwise to endanger the only potential heir to the throne of Plegia.” Chrom’s hand immediately wrapped around her waist, a sting of dread settling in his stomach. This too, was news to him.

Validar’s voice grew cold. “What makes you think I would endanger your son, my child?”

Robin shook her head politely, but her husband could feel her tremble within his protective grasp. “Not you, dear father. But other nobles would love to get their hands on the future King of Plegia. With him gone, a coup is so much easier.”

Outrage overcame the Plegian King, and he raised his voice to the point that any servant nearby must have overheard their private conversation. “Like anyone would harm Grima’s chosen successor! Robin, I will not take no for an answer! I will take the child with me to Plegia and that is final!” He sought to pull the child from her grasp, and Chrom had to bite his cheek not to stop the man from touching his son.

Robin’s soft words surprised them both. “His name is Morgan.”

As if frozen in time, Validar’s hands halted in the air. “Morgan?” He repeated dumbly, something akin to loss and wonder in his tone.

“After mother, since he resembles her a bit.” Robin elaborated unnecessarily, for the moment she had said their child’s name the Plegian King could see her reasoning as clear as day. “See, he has her eyes. Morgan, smile for grandpa, will you? Open your beautiful eyes my love.”

And like a charm, the little boy did. The grey blue that had been his eye color upon birth had darkened into the eyes he saw upon his wife’s face every morning, and next to him his father-in-law’s resolve crumbled to the ground with every bat Morgan’s tiny eyelashes.

“He does have her eyes.” He admitted softly, a finger stroking the small child’s rosy cheek.

“And her health, I’m afraid.” Robin’s voice was grave, and Chrom knew he was missing something here for Morgan had been an exceptionally healthy child since birth. “I beg you father, in the name of my late mother, please allow me to keep  him with me, if only until he doesn’t stop breathing anymore from time to time.”

“Morgan… he does that?” The King’s eyes were wide with concern.

His daughter nodded, smiling sadly at her small child. “I think he had a seizure once, but it was minor. Nothing like what mother had, but I’m cautious. A monk has told me that sometimes, when a child is sheltered enough, such illnesses disappear on their own over time.”

Then Validar was quiet for a moment, his eyes never leaving his daughter’s. Whatever was going on between them, Chrom wasn’t part of it. Eventually the King sighed in defeat. “Very well Robin, you’ll have your wish. Morgan will stay here until he is seven. Will that be enough for you?”

“Let us hope so father.” Robin replied solemnly, but he could see the hint of a victorious smile on the edges of her lips.

“But you will educate him in our ways!” Validar exclaimed loudly, sparing a glance at him for the first time since he had allowed the King into their quarters. “I don’t want any of that Naga bullshit in his vicinity or I will personally return to take my grandchild with me!”

“Of course father, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” His wife replied dutifully, and he nodded along for good measure, too happy that their son would remain theirs for many more years.

The King refastened his cloak around his shoulders. “Then I shall take my leave without little Morgan. This visit has been extended too much already for me to remain here any longer. Take good care of him Robin, that is the future King of Plegia you’re holding!” He bellowed at his own daughter, and Robin merely bowed politely to her father. Chrom returned the gesture in good faith of his wife’s plan.  The King shook his hand and gave his daughter a kiss on her forehead, and another one on Morgan’s. “…. He does really have her eyes, doesn’t he?” He repeated once more, something akin to wonder in the stern King’s voice.

Robin rocked Morgan gently back and forth. “He does.”

Validar sighed deeply once more, before allowing Chrom and Robin to escort him out of the palace. “I will see you soon my daughter.” The King said before he stepped back into his carriage.

“Safe journey, father.” Robin replied kindly, and together they waved off a disaster narrowly avoided.

As soon as they were out of sight, Chrom turned to his wife. “What was that all about Morgan being sick? I’ve never seen him have a seizure or stop breathing at any time. Why didn’t you tell  me?”  

Robin gritted her teeth in a forced smile, and whispered: “Not here Chrom.”

Some guards were nearby enough to overhear, and Chrom ceded to his wife’s paranoia. “Then let’s go to our rooms and put him in his crib, he’s tired.” The normally happy little boy was irritable to every sound and movement, trying to fall asleep in his mother’s arms at every chance he’d get.

She allowed him to put his hand around her waist and aid her up the stairs to their private rooms. “I didn’t let him sleep yesterday so he would be more cranky today.” She admitted softly to him.

“Why would you do that to our child?” Chrom exclaimed louder than he intended.

Robin’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “To protect him Chrom. Let it go, you wouldn’t understand.”

“No I won’t let this go, he is my child as well.” He said resolutely while he closed the door behind them. “And why didn’t you tell me he was sick?”

His wife sighed deeply as she put their son in his bed. The boy was out like a light within mere seconds.“Because he isn’t. But my mother was. She was prone to seizures from time to time, and had trouble breathing when the air was thick and humid.”

That wasn’t exactly an explanation in Chrom’s book. “Then why did you tell your father Morgan did that too? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad he gets to stay with us for a few more years but I don’t understand why you had to go through such lengths.”

 For a moment he thought she was going to shut him out again, like she had done so many times before when he got too curious about her past. But then she sat down on their shared bed, sighed deeply and started explaining. “Because when my mother died, it was my father’s fault. She was his lead strategist of the Plegian army but had been out of commission because she was pregnant for a while, until she miscarried for the nth time. My father, who desperately wanted a male heir, was always a bit cranky with her after that happened and demanded that she at least return to the battlefield to show her worth. Her self-esteem was low, and she loved him dearly. Of course she did what he asked.” Robin grit out bitterly, her fingernails digging in their soft bed sheets. “She didn’t even fight, but just traveling far away after bleeding so much was too much for her body. She had a seizure before she could even reach the camp, and didn’t wake up again after that. My father never forgave himself for sending her away to her death.”

Chrom’s eyes widened and he put a hand on her shoulder and forced her to turn to him. “Gods Robin, that is horrible! But he didn’t know that would happen!”

Robin’s eyes lit on fire within mere seconds. “Maybe if he’d loved her as much as he always proclaimed, he would have taken better care of her and I would still have a mother!” She raged, her fists balled up in his tunic and her tone more spiteful than he had ever heard from her. Quickly, she recovered. “I’m sorry Chrom, I let myself go. I was fifteen when it happened, and my mother had cared for me most of my life. My sister had just been married off a year ago and I was utterly alone. I took her place two weeks after she died, and tried to guide my country into peace despite the fact that we were losing the war badly. I did well, I’d like to believe.  But my mother’s death is an old wound that continues to fester to this day, and an easy blackmail to hold over my father’s head when I need it.” Her words were calculated and polite, like the princess she had been raised to be, but she couldn’t hide the slight wetness at the corner of her eyes.

But some things didn’t add up in Chrom’s mind and over the course of their marriage he had started to detest the holes in his knowledge of his wife’s former life. “Why does your father want Morgan so badly anyway? He can’t rule until he comes of age anyway?”

A tremor overcame the woman in his arms, and nothing short of dread welled up in her eyes. Then, like snow under the Plegian sun, all that emotion was gone, replaced by a thick steel wall he couldn’t even dream of possibly penetrating..

“No.” He said before he could think about it. “Don’t close up again. We’re past this. Please Robin, whatever scares you, this is about our son, and I need to know!”

Not unlike her father had done earlier today, she sighed in defeat. Her hands didn’t stop trembling as she spoke carefully, her eyes darting around their empty chambers. “I suppose you have a right to know. Chrom, close the door and the windows. What I’m about to tell you never leaves this room, am I understood?” As she said this, she stood up despite her trembling legs and started checking behind every window and door, closing every curtain she could find.

Perplexed, Chrom could only watch her work. “Of course, but don’t you think these measures are a bit… drastic?”

“I cannot be cautious enough with this.” For one last time his wife checked their large closet for any potential eavesdropper. Of course, she found none. “The smartest thing to do would be to never tell you at all, but… I trust you. You’ve been a good husband to me and a great father to our children. If I’m to break my vow to anyone, it would be you.”

Chrom took her hand and urged her to sit back down with him. “What vow… Robin what is going on here?”

She pulled her hand back, leaving him with just the glove. Then she showed him the top of her hand, marked with those familiar dark lines and curves. “You know I am marked as a descendant of Grima right?” Her words were soft and careful.

“You bear the mark of the royal family, if I’m correct.” He kissed her marked hand softly, hoping to ease her a bit.

Instead, her eyes widened and she retracted her hand. “It’s not the mark of the royal family, rather the mark of a potential vessel… Chrom, when my father taught me that my role in life was to be a sacrifice to my people, he meant that literally.” Her eyes were wild, and her words so soft yet they seemed to echo through the entire room as if she had shouted them instead.

“I don’t follow you Robin.” He said carefully.

For a second, his wife remained quiet. “The people your father despised, the fanatics that wanted to return Grima to the world? They exist, and they’re called the Grimleal.” She explained in hushed tones, her eyes darting around the room. “My father used to be part of them, though he told me had broken his ties with them long ago. But my mother didn’t believe him. Oh, she loved him dearly despite the fact that their marriage was arranged just like ours, but when the mark of Grima appeared on my skin and I was to be tested for the potential to be a sacrifice, she sabotaged the test. And by that, she probably saved all of our lives, since I am the first potential vessel in generations.”

_The Grimleal_. He had heard that term before, but never in this context. His eyes narrowed, and his tone mirrored hers. “You’re not making any sense Robin, a vessel for what? Are you saying your father would use you as a potential human sacrifice?”

“By performing a binding ritual with my body and the blood of thousands, Grima could manifest in this world, and potentially destroy all of us.” And the words seemed physically sting her lips to speak.

For a moment he expected Gaius or some other Sheppard to burst out from behind a plant, telling him this was all some elaborate fantasy. Destroying the world? Human sacrifices? Such things happened in stories, not in real life. “But why would anybody want that? It makes no sense Robin, your father has worked tirelessly to ensure the continued existence and prosperity of his country. Why would he want to see it be wiped off the face of the earth?”

“The Grimleal believe that in order for a new and better world to be reborn, the old one must first be destroyed completely. _‘Without death, there can be no life, for the death of one is the birth of two_ _’_ _._ That is what the Book of Grima says, and that is why we sacrifice with blood in our religion, to show a willingness to die so others may live.” She explained patiently, finally sitting beside him. Now it was him who wanted to pace around. “But the Grimleal take it literal, and truly wish for all of us to die. To destroy humanity safe for a few chosen ones.”

It all seemed unreal to Chrom, but Robin’s eyes told him this was no joke. “And you believe they could do it?” He asked seriously, and Robin nodded gravely.

She clutched her own throat tight as she spoke. “My mother did, and she was neck-deep into the cult. Her father was the hierophant for years, if I’m correct. But she’d never supported his views of genocide, and taught me to think rather than to blindly obey as well. It was a lucky twist of fate that I was born as her daughter and not as anyone else’s, and that she recognized my brand and life energy for what it was upon birth. Nobody knows what I am Chrom, she did everything within her power to ensure that. From a very young age she took me under her wing and made me vow never to tell anyone of my true heritage. I wasn’t allowed to even touch dark magic until my mother was sure I could fake my incapability, while in reality, I could do dark magic without a tome while sleeping. I’ve been hiding who I truly am all my life Chrom, and that’s what I’ll teach my children as well.”

For a moment, all Chrom could do was gasp for air. Then thoughts of disbelief flooded his mind.“Your father… he looked so happy with Lucina, and he adores you! I can see it in his eyes every time he lays eyes upon you. You truly believe he would sacrifice you?”

Robin’s words were hard and unforgiving. “Without a doubt. A man’s personal life should never come in the way of his duty, he always taught Aversa and me.” A mirthless smile danced over her face. “He arranged Aversa’s marriage to Gangrel, knowing she disliked him severely, because it was the best thing for our family at the time. She was his little girl, and he hated to give her away to another man but he did it without regrets anyway. So yes, I believe he’d sacrifice me. He’d feel horrible about it, but he’d do it because he’d think it would be the best for his country.”

He remember how he saw the man when he first met him, and how he had handed his daughter over to his former enemies without seemingly any doubt. His blood started to boil and his hands balled up in fists. “He’s a monster… how could your mother ever love such a man?”

“He was gentle and kind to us, as long as we obeyed his wishes.” Robin defended weakly, her own hands covering Chrom’s. She sat down between his knees, their heads almost touching.  “Besides, loving a man and loving his beliefs are two different things. My parent’s loved each other, but they never trusted one each other. Eventually that became my mother’s downfall. I’m not about to let that happen to us, or our children.”

A wave of dizziness overcame Chrom as that little bit of information settled into his mind. “Gods… then, our children, are they potential vessels as well?”

Robin averted her eyes from his. “Lucina isn’t, as I knew from the moment she was born. You remember when we were in Plegia that first time after she was born? How my father bathed her and painted all kinds of symbols on her? That was the identification ritual, and I never would have let it happen if I hadn’t known she wasn’t a potential vessel. I had hoped that your blood of Naga would have negated the effects of my own, and in Lucina’s case it did.” But even before she said the words, Chrom knew what she was going to say. “Morgan however… from the moment he was born I’ve felt a strange presence within him, like a second beating heart, or a voice that whispers so softly you can’t make out the words. He’s a vessel, I know it. And maybe it’s my fault, since I used dark magic during my pregnancy! How could I have been so stupid to do that?” Her voice grew panicky at the end, and tears that had long been held back freely cascaded down her cheeks. Chrom felt his own well up too.

“Because we were fighting a war my love, and you were trying to keep us all safe. If anyone is to blame, it’s me for dragging you into it in the first place.” He held her hands and gaze, trying to impart this knowledge on her without speaking.

But Robin shook her head violently. “I didn’t tell you, and I should have. You’ve trusted me with your armies and your kingdom, and I should have returned the favor. But it’s too late already. Morgan was born with the mark of Grima on his left hand. The moment my father sees it he’ll test him too, and I don’t have the knowledge of the ritual to sabotage it myself. My mother died before she could pass on that knowledge to me.”

Sweat and tremors overcame Chrom as well. “So you’re telling me there is nothing we can do?” His voice was shaky, and he clasped her arms tightly.

A shrill laughter escaped Robin’s mouth, and there was nothing happy about it. “Short of starting a new war that would destroy both our countries? We can only buy time, as I’ve been trying to do up until now. My father has a legal right to him, as our marriage contract states.”

And she was right. He had seen the contract several times before he signed it during both his weddings. It was waterproof, an insurance of unbroken peace, designed by his sister herself. “Damn it all!” He screamed out, a stream of profanities following the statement. With one abrubt movement he got up and punched the nearest door. The wood crackled under the impact, but it did not break nor did he feel the pain. “Damn this stupid contract, I knew I never should have signed it in the first place!” He gritted out, kicking the closet once for good measure.

“I’m glad you did.” Robin’s voice was soft and gentle, making him turn around and face her again. A sweet smile had fallen over her face for the first time since Morgan was born, and he was immediately gravitated to her side, embarrassed of his outbreak.  “Over the years, fighting together, working together, becoming parents together, I’ve truly fallen in love with you.” A faint blush spread over her cheeks, and all the anger he had felt up until a moment ago vanished.

It was the first time she’d truly spoken the words out loud. It was something he’d known for years, but had never been put into words before. He had thought they didn’t need such a declaration, but upon hearing the long awaited sentence he was proved to be wrong. In one near-desperate movement he pulled her close and pressed their lips together. A kiss, not unlike any other they had shared over the years, and yet very sweet. How far they had come together, he thought for a happy moment. But then she released him and his thoughts turned grim again. “I’ve loved you for years, but I think you’ve always known that.” He whispered with his lips moving over hers, words meant for her ears only.  And that is why I won’t let them take away our son, whether he’s the vessel of Grima or just a small baby that belongs with his parents instead of cultists!” An euphoric determination washed over him, and he kissed her again, deeply.

When they parted again, her words were less optimistic. “All we can do is stall. Make a bargain, lie that he’s sick, anything until a better solution arises.”

A little of his former anger made its return to Chrom, pulling his chest tight. “That’s not a way of solving this. That’s postponing!”

Robin shushed him, urging him to be quiet. “There is no clear-cut solution to this, why did you think I was so apprehensive to become a mother in the first place?”

“Because you didn’t want to marry me?” Chrom ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

Something akin to surprise overtook his wife’s features. “You knew that? How I screamed and shouted at my father before that meeting, telling him he couldn’t sell me like a cow?”

That was news to him. “I didn’t, but the way you acted when we first got married told me enough.” And without wanting to, that awkward first night came back to him. “Gods, I felt guilty for just touching you! How I hated myself…”

Robin smiled slightly, and cupped his face between her two hands. “Five years later and look where we are now. I’ve told you my greatest secret. You do realize you literally hold my life in your hands, do you?”

There seemed only one logical answer for that question. “As you have held mine for years now. I swear to you Robin, here and now, that I will do everything within my power to protect both you and our children.” It was the promise of a lifetime, and Chrom knew he would rather die than break it.

Something of what he felt must have translated into either his tone or features, for they seemed to captivate Robin for a moment. “I…. thank you, Chrom.”

He kissed her deeply, trying to ban out his worry with his love for her. “Anything for you my love.” And he meant it.

And so the façade began. “There are spies everywhere.” Muttered Robin into Morgan’s ear while she changed his diaper. “And you must always be wary.”

It was hard to make a young child fake a seizure in the garden, but with some help of one of Robin’s old friends named Tharja, the illusion was complete. When it was time to learn how to walk, Morgan was encouraged not to. Instead Robin kept him at her side at all times, telling even their closest friends that the boy was too sickly to be around others. Lissa questioned him about it from time to time, but especially after her husband died protecting their child from an assassin’s arrow, she had her hands full with Owain and the other orphans the shepherds left behind after their death, especially after Libra died as well. It was a dark time for all of them, but he was happy to have his sister back at his side where he could protect her.

Lucina was jealous from time to time since her little brother got so much more of their mother’s attention than she’d ever gotten. Chrom tried to spend as much time with her as possible, from teaching her sword fighting in their garden to letting her sit on his lap while he did his duties as the King’s Justice and listened the pleas of his people. But he was still exalt, and despite his private situation he had still made a vow to his people to put them first. It was a harder vow to keep than he had ever could have anticipated when he had to pick between a council meeting and a crying Lucina. Eventually he managed to instill upon her that her brother was very sick and that was why he was getting the special treatment.

“You don’t want him to go away, do you?” He asked her one night when he was putting her to bed.  She shook her head, but the tears still lingered in her eyes. Eventually she became protective of her little brother, truly believing their lies. When Robin cried at night at what they had become, all he could do was hold her and tell her it was alright and that they were doing the best thing they could. He hoped that wasn’t a lie, but sometimes he wasn’t so sure. But Morgan grew up healthily despite their best efforts not to. Even as a toddler the boy was extremely self-driven to overcome whatever barrier they put up for him. Keeping up the illusion that he was a sickly child was very hard at that time. But the boy was also very smart, and at the age of three he understood that when his mother signaled him to, he had to act a bit. In return Robin reserved a little closed off room for just the two of them, were she taught him how to control the secrets of their bloodline before a boy could even read a tome.

And despite all their worries and schemes, the boy grew up to be just fine. Their façade prevented him from teaching his son how to swing a sword, but he was able to read with him from time to time, telling him the stories of the Hero-King, even though Marth had always been Lucina’s favorite. Morgan always wanted to hear stories about his mother, how she had outwitted the Valmese tactician that one time or how she had singlehandedly annihilated the western flank. Chrom was all too happy to provide those stories as well, although in a slightly abridged version that was more suitable for a young child. He loved his son, who was just as clumsy as he was and just as sassy as his mother.

But time flies, especially when you least want it too. His old battle wounds ached more with ever winter that passed, and he had to delegate the actual fighting to his generals more often than not. Risen continued to plague the country quite like Plegian soldiers once had, only these were not so easily killed or evaded. Many a child was orphaned by a blade that had once belonged to his own country, and it hurt Chrom that despite his best efforts and all of the sacrifices they had made, he still couldn’t protect his people. Some days it seemed a lost cause, and all he wanted to do was drown himself in the memories of his brighter youth, when his friends were at his sight and victory always within the reach of his grasp.

On one of those evenings, when he was watching some of the children play in the garden, someone behind him voiced his thoughts. “It’s not so easy, being King, isn’t it?”

Chrom darted his weary eyes towards the direction of the voice. His father, a grey man aged beyond his years walked towards him at a slow pace. “You would know.” Chrom gritted out.  

“I do.” His father acknowledged, and sat down beside him without asking permission. “But you’re doing a better job than I’d ever imagined you could have done. I know that look in your eyes, I’ve seen it in the mirror too often. Don’t let go of your hopes and convictions now boy, you’ll never find it back if you do. I would know.”

It sounded like nothing but a veiled rebuke to Chrom. “But there seems to be no ending to this! It doesn’t matter what I do, how many die, or how much I sacrifice.” He kicked a pebble at his feet, and it landed close to the children he was overseeing. Their joyful games were interrupted. “There is always a new Risen around the corner to break all the progress I’ve made.”

“ _’There is always another mountain to climb. It’s not the destination that matters, but the way we make the journey.’_ That was the advice my father gave me when I was even younger than you are today. I lost sight of that a long time ago, and in return thousands have died.” Never before had his father admitted that his actions and fanaticism may have caused others grief, and the simple, softly worded admission seemed more like a gust of Elwind in the face than the mere words they were. “What I’m trying to say is that you’re trying to make things right without putting a sword between someone’s ribs. You’re acting like a King, not a common foot soldier. Unlike I did for many years.”

Chrom raised his brow, his eyes still trained on his young daughter. “I hardly believe I am doing a better job.”

“And yet we have been at peace for longer than anyone alive can remember. Do you still wonder why I gave you the crown? It is because you were worthy and I wasn’t. Now hold your head up straight boy, and prove me that I was right!” His words were harsh, but there was glimmer of joy in his father’s eyes that he hadn’t seen before.

Had Chrom been ten years old, this would have meant the world to him. But those roads were long abandoned, and instead of that euphoria, merely a small pang of warm bitterness arose in his chest. “Thank you father. I don’t think you’ve ever said you were proud of me before.” It didn’t come grateful at all, and his father didn’t fail to pick up on that.

The man forced his son to look him in the eye, and Chrom suddenly was confronted with the shell of the proud and distant exalt his father was still in his mind. “I haven’t? But I am!” He exclaimed, his eyes searching his son’s face for something Chrom knew he would never find. When the old King concluded the same, a wary resignation settled on his wrinkled features. “I suppose I’ve never been much of a father, or a King. Too cautious to let anyone close after your mother took a knife meant for me, too rash to prevent such a knife from taking my own daughter’s life. No parent is supposed to outlive their child Chrom, it is unnatural.” His words were heavy with grief and for the first time in years Chrom felt bad for his father. Had they ever been close, then Chrom would have pulled his arms around the man. But things had never been like that, and thus all Chrom could do was meet his father’s gaze unflinchingly.

After a short awkward silence, the man regained the power of his voice. “What I’m trying to say is, I am proud of you Chrom and of all you have done. And I should have told you that before, that I am truly proud of how you handled your marriage and of the father you became to your children. Lucina and Morgan are your pride and joy, and everyone can see that.”

Before Chrom could stop himself he spoke the bitter truth without any empathy for his father. “I vowed that my children wouldn’t have to grow up wondering if their parents ever loved them.”

“And you succeeded.” His father conceded, regret etched upon his features. “But I want you to know that I do. Love you, that is. And Lissa too.”

Chrom wished he could return the sentiment, but wasn’t sure he would mean it. “Maybe you should tell her that yourself once, father.”  Still, his chest felt lighter than it had in years, and he allowed a small smile to grace his lips.

“I should, before this blasted illness takes me. The Great Conqueror, felled by a mere cold! How my old enemies would laugh in their graves if they knew!” His voice was something akin to joking, a unprecedented thing between father and son.

“You’re not dying father.”

The old Exalt’s face grew solemn, aging him another decade red light of the setting sun. “I am. It’s the only thing I’ve been doing for many years, since after your mother died within my arms. All I’ve been doing is dying a slow and painful death, bleeding my country dry in the mean time.” Suddenly his eyes grew haunted, regretful. Not unlike Robin’s were from time to time. “It takes a young girl like Lucina to make an old crow like me realize that what I’ve been doing isn’t living at all. When you two were in Valm, she was my lifeline. I had send my two last children to their death, with only  my small grandchild remaining. And this time, I had no one else to blame but me. Many nights I practiced how I would break the news to my granddaughter that her parents and aunt weren’t coming back, and that was all my fault.”

“Father…” Chrom whispered out, but the former exalt raised his hand to prevent him from interrupting him.

“But you did return. Covered in blood, limping, and haunted by all what you had seen. But you came through for her, and you came through for your son. I don’t know what’s going on with the boy, or why your wife keeps him so close to her all the time. But I know you’re doing the right thing, because that’s the kind of man you’ve become. Unafraid and unselfish to do whatever needs to be done.” And when he was done speaking, he waited for Chrom to acknowledge the compliment.

Instead the young King embrased his father for the first time since either of them could remember. It was short, and the man clung desperately for every second that it lasted as if he were to vanish like smoke between his fingers, but it was an embrace nevertheless. Then they broke apart, awkwardly, but a careful smile on both their faces. From a distance, Robin called out his name and Lucina and Morgan came running towards hiim. “Now go back to your family, boy. You’re the man of this house now, and have been for some time. You need to be strong. Don’t lose yourself, Chrom. It’s all I can give you anymore at this point.”

“I will.” Chrom said while he lifted his tiny son up in his arms, his daughter at his feet, demanding for him to put her to bed tonight.

A look of longing passed over his father’s face, and then it was gone. “And I will go speak to your sister, if she would have me.”  

When his father succumbed to his cold a mere month later, Chrom and Lissa raised a glass of wine together in his memory, but not a single tear. Their father had died with regrets etched into his skin, but they had made their peace with their shared past. Wherever their father was, he was with the two women he had loved most during his entire life, and they both knew that there was nothing that would have made him happier. Chrom never asked what had transpired between his sister and his father, but he did know that when Owain’s brand appeared on his skin, she was happy for him without any jealousy.

 For Chrom, his father’s words echoed into his mind, and he never let go of his ideals again. So when Morgan’s seventh birthday approached Chrom traveled to Plegia himself, unbeknownst to his wife, and begged Validar on his bare knees to allow Morgan to stay with them for another seven years.

 “He’s still very sick.” He pleaded while kneeling before the crowned King of Plegia. “And Robin’s health is failing as well. I cannot even begin to imagine what it would do to her if Morgan was to be taken away from her. I beg you, please reconsider. I am nothing without your daughter, and Ylisse is nothing without her.” He prided himself that even while he was on his knees, he had the upper hand in the courtroom full of nobles. For an Ylissean Exalt to bow in front of their King, admitting that their princess was vital to their rival’s country was a sight never seen before. It was a dirty tactic, something his wife would have approved of if she would have ever known of it.

And true to his prediction, Validar could not refuse his request when it was presented to him like this, and in the end he didn’t. “But just for five more years! When he’s twelve I want him at my court. And you will deliver him to me yourself, Exalted King, or I will take him away by force. Only my love for my daughter and my goodwill to your country stays my hand this time. It will not happen again.” He said magnanimously, and Chrom was certain that the entire court would be speaking of their just and merciful king for many years to come.  

“Of course, thank you gracious King.” Years ago it would have bruised his pride to the point of breaking to kneel down like this, but he was a father now and he had found that there was truly nothing he wouldn’t do to keep his children safe. ‘ _Do you vow to serve your people first and foremost, no matter the cost and regardless of your personal needs?’_ His father had asked him once, and he had vowed to do so. Time was running out, but Chrom knew that eventually they would find _something_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were wondering: yes, this chapter is almost as big as two chapters, but hey, endgame anyone? There is only one chapter left after this one that hopefully won’t take up another 8000 words, but I cannot be too sure. The current draft is already exceeding the average 4000 words, so I cannot make any promises. I do hope you guys enjoy this true penultimate chapter! Any comments are very, very welcome. I am once again looking for a beta so if anyone is up for it, send me a message! HAIL GRIMA!


	8. The Dragon's Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter! Now in readable English thanks to the blessings of the beta!

As Morgan grew older, the façade became harder and harder to keep up. The boy was too smart to rebel openly, but puberty and the mood swings that accompany it still provided a challenge for the young parents. On multiple occasions, Chrom caught Morgan swordfighting with Owain in the gardens, albeit out of sight _ **.**_ Both boys were scolded heavily for that, although Lissa didn’t entirely understand why they insisted on sheltering their youngest child while their eldest was allowed to run around as she pleased. Before they knew it, their eldest had blossomed into a beautiful young woman, and Morgan was well on his way to surpass his mother in height.

Chrom often joked that the two of them caused had caused their mother’s hair to turn gray prematurely, and Robin played along happily. Those were the happy times of a close family. But in between keeping a Kingdom besieged by risen from falling apart and hiding a colossal secret, these moments were few and far in between.

As their children grew up and the deadline drew closer, the dark shadows beneath his wife’s eyes grew more prominent and the nights she slept at his side became a rare occurrence. Robin visited every library on the continent and read every book known to contain some information about the Fellbloods. She had traveled to Valm, to Regna Ferox and even beyond to lands that they had no names for. But no matter how far she traveled or how hard she tried, her search remained fruitless. Before Chrom knew it, the five years were over and they had nothing left to bargain with.

The dreaded missive came one Tuesday afternoon. Robin trembled when she accepted the message from the Wyvern Lord, a formal invitation to the welcoming ceremony of Plegia’s new crown prince. Once they were behind closed doors, she fell into his arms and let the tears fall. “I failed Chrom, I failed!”

Chrom felt as if a brick had settled into his stomach. He swallowed visibly and put his arms around his wife. “You did everything you could, my love. All we can hope now is that we’ve prepared Morgan well enough so he can do the rest.”

“They’ll kill him, or worse, they’ll sacrifice him!” she cried out in his chest. “He’s just a little boy!”

All she said was true, but Chrom knew had to be optimistic. “He’s a boy, but a prodigy in his own right. He won’t make it easy for them.” Or at least he hoped so. Morgan was strong, but kind. He wouldn’t see a knife from behind coming before it settled between his ribs. He shook his head to get rid of the horrific image of his son bleeding out alone on the floor. “Besides, I haven’t given up on him yet,” he said with more strength than he truly felt.

Robin looked up at him, desperate hope glittering in her brown eyes. “But how? We tried everything!”

Chrom placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “We will deliver him ourselves, like I promised. And we’ll bargain. If necessary… we’ll do the worst.”

For a second, victory crossed over his wife’s face. Then, like dust in the wind, it was gone and a new wave of tears threatened to spill. “We can’t start a war over our child, Chrom! You’re the Exalt! To sacrifice all of our people just to save our son…” It wasn’t hard to see that she’d considered the possibility herself as well. “As much as I want to do it, we can’t.”

“I can. We certainly can. It’s better than the resurrection of the Fell Dragon, in my book,” Chrom declared resolutely. “But let’s hope your father is still open to blackmail and bribery.”

Robin let go of him, and closed her eyes for a brief moment to recollect herself. “Or we could send an assassin.”

It was an age-old argument, but as much as he was willing to give in to his wife on all matters, this was one thing in which he refused to bend.“I won’t resort to those tactics Robin, as we’ve discussed before numerous time. If I’m to break the truce, I will do so in a honorable way.”

A shrill, cruel laugh escaped Robin’s lips, and at that moment she sounded more like her father than she ever had. At moments like these, Chrom was scared of all the things Robin would be willing to do to save the people she loved. “You’re too good to be a King, you know that?” It was once meant to be a compliment, but now it sounded like she was scolding a child for naivety.

“I believe that is one of the very first things you told me when we met,” Chrom replied patiently.

For a second his wife was lost in her memories. When she spoke again, her voice was soft and longing. “It seems like ages ago,” she admitted, and looked him straight in the eye. This was as much as of an apology as he was going to get, he knew after many years of marriage. Robin sighed deeply and averted her eyes to the ground in defeat. “But I will agree to your plan. We’ll go to Plegia, not as King and Queen, but as his parents. And there?”

“There we’ll hope for the best.” Was all Chrom could say, trying to keep his mind positive. “But we’ll prepare for the worst. I’m sure you haven’t forgotten how to be a Grandmaster Tactician in all your years of being a queen?”

Robin snorted at that, but in her eyes an old light was reawakened and the last traces of tears were gone. She squared her shoulders and stood up straight;  even with her messy hair and dress she looked more like the merciless tactician that had led them all to victory back in Valm than she had looked in many years.“ I’ll instruct Morgan and order the guard to be mobilized. When should we leave?”

“Whenever you say, Grandmaster,” Chrom said playfully, hoping to bring a smile on his wife’s tear-stained face.

He was successful, if only for a second. “As soon as possible would be best. The more time we have to convince my father, the better.” Robin’s tone was clipped and professional, but for the first time in what seemed like years there was hope in her eyes, and in these dark days Chrom considered that a personal achievement.

“Tomorrow morning then, at first light?” He suggested.

Robin thought about it for a second and then nodded. “Yes. That would be best. I’ll talk to Frederick and Sumia. They were with us when we first rode together from Plegia to Ylisse, and they should be with us when we return home this time. With Morgan,” she added, almost as an afterthought, and Chrom wondered exactly how likely she thought it that they would actually succeed at their goal.

“I’ll go tell Lucina,” he said more to himself than to anyone else, but Robin nodded in agreement anyway. She gave him a quick kiss on the lips and walked out of the door, muttering strategies and formations to herself. Chrom couldn’t help but smile as he watched her go.

But there was little time to lose if they were to set out in less than twenty-four hours. Chrom walked to his private study, sat down and started writing. As much as he had pretended to be optimistic about their upcoming mission, Chrom had his doubts. And as he had said to Robin: they had to hope for the best but prepare for the worst. With that thought in mind, he wrote the first sentence of a document that would take him the rest of the day to draft.

_‘This is the last will and testament of Chrom of House Ylisse, Exalted King of the Holy Kingdom of Ylisse.’_

By the time he finished writing, the sun had long set and he had to hurry to gather all his old travel clothing and supplies. They were worn and a little bit tight in some places. He unsheathed Falchion and swung once, twice, three times in the air. The old assassin’s scar ached at every movement, and Chrom felt every bit his age. With that thought in mind, he sheathed the ancient sword and set off for his daughter’s chambers.

With one gentle knock on the door he announced his presence. “It’s me Lucina, can I come in?”

“Father? Of course!” Lucina opened the door herself, despite only wearing a nightgown. For a second, a wave of pride hit Chrom at what a strong woman she had become, and all he wanted to do was gather her up in his arms and never let go of her again. His daughter’s question kept him from acting on his impulses. “What are you doing up at this hour?” She allowed him into her room and sat down on the bed. Chrom sat down next to her and put an arm around his daughter’s shoulders.

“I’m sure you heard that we’ll be leaving tomorrow morning.” At that, Lucina nodded. “And I thought I’d swing by. How was your last mission?”

Lucina looked at him puzzled, but recounted her last visit to Regna Ferox with ease. “It went as well as it could have gone. Is that why you came to me? Did I do something wrong?”

Chrom eased her worries immediately with a special smile only reserved for his daughter. “Of course not Lucina. It’s just…” He took a breath, thinking of how to approach the delicate matter. “Your mother, brother and I will be leaving for Plegia at first light. And I’ll be frank with you, it’s not going to be pretty.”

Lucina frowned. “So soon already? You won’t really just… hand him over, would you?” She said carefully, searching for something in her father’s eyes. “He’s always been a bit fragile.”

At that moment, Chrom regretted concealing the truth from their daughter for all these years. She was only fifteen, but if things went wrong… he tried not to think of that scenario. “Lucina, there are things going on that predate your birth. If..,” he paused for a second and then corrected himself.“No, _when_ I return I will tell you everything, this I promise you. But our time is short. That is why I’m going to cut to the chase. Lucina, I want you to have this.”

With a practiced movement he undid the clasp at his shoulder and the buckle at his side. The weight of his sword, which had been by his side even before Lucina had been conceived, rested entirely on one arm. The old scar on his shoulder ached, but Chrom ignored it. Then, wordlessly, he handed Falchion over to his stupefied daughter.

“Father I can’t accept this, how will you fight without Falchion?” Lucina exclaimed with wide eyes, staring at the ancient sword in her lap.

Chrom took his daughter’s hand and placed it on the hilt. “We are going on a diplomatic visit my love, not to war,” he lied. “Besides, your mother has always been the sword at my side. I won’t have need for anything else. So let me be yours while I am away. You will be the official regent of Ylisse in my absence. The weight of Falchion is nothing compared to that duty. When I return and you still think this was, you may give it back to me. But for now, I want you to have it.”

Lucina shook her head wordlessly, stood up and unsheathed Falchion. Her careful swings were precise and quick, and Chrom knew he had made the right decision. “What exactly are you going to do father? You make this trip sound so ominous.”

He sighed deeply, and motioned her to sit back down next to him. “Your mother will not surrender Morgan easily, nor will I. But you never know what happens on the road.”

Lucina frowned deeply. “But you just said-“

“You know I love you Lucina, right?” Chrom interrupted her, his heart on his sleeve.

A brilliant smile graced his daughter’s face, and in all his years of being King, he never felt as powerful as at that moment. “Of course, daddy!” she exclaimed with the same enthusiasm she had as a child. “I love you too! That’s why I’m worried about what you’re saying!”

This time he didn’t keep himself from embracing her. His little girl remained just that when he held her like this. “Good. That knowledge makes my heart lighter,” he whispered into her blue hair. “I will tell you everything when we return Lucina, I swear that to you. But I have to go and prepare now, or your mother will murder me before we even reach Plegia. Sleep tight my princess, you’ll be very busy from now on.” Lucina giggled a little at that and allowed her father to put her in bed like he had sometimes done when she was a little girl. That didn’t seem such a long time ago for Chrom.

“When will you return?” she said when he gave her a goodnight kiss on her brow.

“Soon. With your brother in tow, I assure you,” he promised her. “Sweet dreams, Lucina.”

Lucina smiled, believing every word he said because why would her own father lie to her? “Sweet dreams and a good journey, father.”

Chrom took one last look at his daughter and then closed the door behind him. There, he was met with two accusing eyes that he had known for most of his life. Lissa stared down at him in a way that reminded him of Emmeryn, her eyes narrowed as if she was waiting for him to explain himself.

He had never been able to lie to his older sister if she looked like that. “You heard all that?” he asked with a sigh.

Lissa led him away from Lucina’s room. In the dark of the night, there wasn’t a single servant around to hear them. “I heard enough. Eavesdropping has always been one of my greater skills, brother, you’ve known that since we were children. Which is why I was surprised when I heard from a servant in that you and Robin were leaving for Plegia in a moment’s notice, and yet, my dear brother hadn’t informed me of anything.”

Chrom released a sigh he didn’t know he was holding. “I lied to Lucina. This is much more than a diplomatic meeting. To be honest Lissa, I’m not sure if I will ever come back. I will do everything within my might to do so, but if I don’t…” Of all people to break in front, it had to be his little sister.

In an age long past, Lissa would have cried upon hearing his words. But she had lost a husband, a sister and a dozen of friends and somewhere in between all that, she’d grown up into the woman that stood in front of him today. “Don’t leave us like Emmeryn, Chrom. I barely survived it the first time, and Lon’qu’s death still weighs heavily on me.”

“I wish I could promise you that, sister,” he said in complete honesty for the first time since the message from Plegia had arrived. “But I can’t. I won’t lie to you, after this, there will be no peace, no matter the outcome. So please, whatever happens, protect Lucina and the other children. We owe it to their parents, who died to get us where we are today.”

“When will our family stop making human sacrifices for peace?” Lissa’s voice was harsh and shrill, and it pained him that his once-innocent sister had to become what she was today.

“We are of the exalted bloodline. It is in our blood.” He said it like he had told himself many times before going to bed. It didn’t ease the pained look on Lissa’s face. “I love you, sis. Please take care of my children if I for some reason no longer can.” He pleaded to her formally despite the fact that he had already finalized it in his will.

For a second she looked at him with large eyes and then balled her hand into a fist and punched his chest with more force than anybody would suspect she possessed. “Argh! Stop looking at me like that! Okay, I promise! Stupid brother! You’d better return!” Something of the girl she had once been resurfaced and it made Chrom smile.

“I’ll try.” he said honestly, gathering her up into a quick embrace.

Lissa sighed into his chest and allowed it for a moment. “I suppose that is as good as I’m going to get, isn’t it?” she said when she pushed him away.

Chrom nodded gravely, too tired to lie. “I’m sorry, Lissa.”

Something akin to horror passed over Lissa’s features, but then it was gone. “Don’t be sorry, be careful and return to us.” She warned him dangerously, and Chrom nodded quickly. Then she wished him a safe journey and they parted for bed.

He was able to catch a few precious hours of sleep before Frederick woke him up. He smiled at the older man, reminiscing their old days together leading the Shepherds. Of course, Frederick had already packed his traveling pack for him because old habits die hard. They met Robin in the dining hall for breakfast, with Morgan in tow. He was happy to be accompanying his parents, seemingly unaware of the danger that was looming above them. Chrom wondered, not unlike many times before, what exactly Robin had told their son.

Their trek to Plegia was a harsh one, not unlike the first time Robin and Chrom had made it together. This time, they weren’t held back by carriages and horses though but flew towards Plegia on the back of Pegasi, so it took them considerably less time. Morgan rode on a Wyvern that had been a present from his maternal grandfather for his eleventh birthday for perhaps this journey alone. Robin was presented with a similar one but stubbornly preferred to ride the Dark Flier Chrom gifted her for their tenth anniversary. The thought of it still made him smile.

Nevertheless, in the early weeks of June, the desert was not a the place to be during the heat of the day. At night, in the comfort of their own tent, Robin admitted that they would reach Plegia exhausted an unprepared to fight if needed. She cradled Morgan’s head on her lap, stroking his hair softly while he slept on peacefully. **Despite her worries, Chrom could only wish their journey would never end.** To be accompanied by his oldest friends and dear wife and son while traveling the world, recounting old tales in front of Frederick’s beloved campfires and just having plain fun were things he had missed during all his years as Ylisse’s diligent Exalt.

But before long, the now familiar outline of the Plegian capital came in sight. Despite the fact that they had never formally announced their departure from Ylisse, King Validar and a small crowd welcomed them as if they had known they would arrive that day all along. For Chrom, it only confirmed his longstanding suspicions that Validar had a spy or two at his court, and he reminded himself that he would weed out whoever it was whenever they returned to Ylisstol. Validar barely had eyes for him or his daughter, and stared at Morgan without bothering to hide it. It irked Chrom more than just a bit. Did the man really expect them to just hand their son over and leave? The urge to just whisk Morgan back on his Wyvern and fly back to Ylisse was tempting, but he resisted. Just before he could give in to the impulse, Validar declared loudly that the welcoming ceremony would be held at Plegia’s most sacred place, the Dragon’s Table. Robin gulped when he said that but he had no opportunity to ask her why because they were quickly separated by Validar’s entourage.

Robin refused to leave Morgan’s side at any time, but Chrom was not so lucky and he was asked to perform an offering to Grima himself. Over the many years of tentative peace, he knew he could hardly refuse such a request **He offered a gold, bloodstained bracelet he initially intended to give to Robin, but instead, he offered it to the large statue of Grima.** It felt wrong to kneel down in front of the very deity that he sought to destroy, celebrating with the people he might be warring with within days. But he smiled diplomatically and did what was expected of him and tried not to let it bother him. Maybe Robin was right, and maybe he was too good to be a king if it meant that he refused to end all this with a quick knife in the night. Although he never had admitted to his wife, he had been tempted with the idea from time to time. Chrom shook his head violently to dispel those thoughts. No, that was not the kind of Exalt he had sworn to be, and even in times when virtue and honor was not convenient he would hold on to it.

That evening, King Validar lead the three of them and a number of men that Chrom assumed to be high ranking priests to the large statue called the Dragon’s Table. It was incredibly large and he was not surprised when it turned out to be a temple of sorts on the inside.

What was alarming however was the large crowd gathered before the stone building that seemed less than eager to greet them, as if they were forced to attend the ceremony that they wouldn’t even be able to see. It didn’t sit well in Chrom’s stomach, but it was too late to run now. His hand grasped for Falchion out of sheer habit, but all he found was a sheathed noble rapier Frederick had provided for him with when he told his old friend of his decision to leave the ancient blade with his daughter.

He met Sumia and Frederick’s eyes once just before they entered the statue-like building, and they nodded. It would only take one word from either Robin or himself and they would know exactly what to do. He smiled at his old friends one last time, and then allowed himself to be taken into the proverbial belly of the beast.

The large hall they entered was colored exquisitely in purples, greens and yellows and Morgan could not contain his delight. “This is beautiful, grandfather!”

“I’m glad you think so Morgan,” Validar replied, smiling at the twelve-year-old.

“Father, please listen to me-” Robin began to plead, holding her son’s hand in her own. But before the King cut her off before she could make her argument.

Validar shook his head resolutely, smiling derisively at his daughter. “No Robin, I’ve heard enough of your excuses. Today your son will become my heir, and we will speak no more of it. I’ve waited for twelve long years only because you asked me to, and frankly I’m quite done waiting. Now, Morgan, would you please come to me?”

Morgan looked uncertainly at his mother, but she held up a hand in front of him, blocking Validar’s line of sight. “Morgan, stay with me until I tell you anything else, okay?” she said in soft, warning tones to her only son.

“Okay, mother,” Morgan replied without question, but instead of running he took a few steps back and took a defensive pose. Whatever Robin had instructed Morgan before they left, this was part of it.

Validar frowned, deeply displeased with their refusal to obey. “Why are you resisting me child?” His tone was low and dangerous, enough to make the hairs on Chrom’s uncovered arm stand up straight.

What happened next was something Chrom had not expected. Robin stood up straight and looked her father directly in the eye, challenging him.“Because I’ve had enough!” She cried with more desperation than he’d ever heard from her. Her voice raised with every word, as if every sentence she uttered made her angrier. “All my life I’ve bowed to your wishes, sacrificed what I wanted for what was good for the realm. You’ve told me what to wear, how to act and even who to marry! But enough is enough! You may be my father, but I am his mother and I will not treat him like you treated me, like a lambs waiting to be sacrificed when the time was right!” At the end, she was panting in exertion, her eyes a smoldering brown not unlike her father’s.

“Insolent child! Just because you refuse to see the big picture doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist!”  He sneers at them, and then laughs cruelly, only adding fuel to Chrom’s already boiling wrath. “Everything I’ve done, everything I have given up was for this moment. Now you will give me my heir or I will take him from you the hard way and make sure you’ll never see him again!”

“Don’t talk to my wife like that!” Chrom snaps back.

Validar glares at him with hatred in his cruel eyes.“Silence! This does not concern you!”

“You made this concern him the moment you married him to me.” Robin interjected coldly, her eyes narrowed and hard. “Father, please, I beg you! Isn’t there any other way for us to settle this?”

For a moment, Validar seemed to think of something that brought a smile to his eyes. “Maybe there is…” The King’s voice was as sweet as honey and it alarmed Chrom more than the shouting had done previously. “Very well I will relinquish my claim on your son in return for the Fire Emblem.”

Of all things he could have requested, this would have been the last thing Chrom expected. “That is a national treasure! It belongs to Ylisse, and it is not mine to give away.” He said matter-of-factly, trying to remain reasonable.

Validar sneered at him again. “That is your problem then, dear Exalted King, for that is my price. The Fire Emblem in return for your son, and no less.” He mocked with that suger-sweet tone again that made Chrom want to throw up.

For a second, he considered doing it. It would solve their problems peacefully, but at what price? The Fire Emblem wasn’t his to give, and yet here he was, King of all Ylisse, with the ancient shield on his right arm. It was an easy way out, and a tempting one no less.

“Don’t give in to him Chrom!” Robin yelled at him, and he was glad for it because she broke his destructive train of thought. Her voice grounded him back to reality with practiced ease. “Until he has written it down and Morgan is safe in Ylisse, I will not trust him to keep his word! Besides, who knows what he’ll do with it once he has it?”

“My little girl, always so clever.” He said with an oily, false voice.“But not clever enough!” A bolt of dark magic hit Robin straight in the chest and she staggered back upon impact.

Robin cried out in pain and both Morgan and Chrom immediately rushed to her, but she pushed them both away in roughly. With strength he didn’t knew she possessed she flung her arms towards the Fire Emblem. He was too flabbergasted to struggle against his own wife to stop her, and before long she had it in her own hands.

“What are you doing Robin?” Chrom exclaimed in shock as Robin walked towards Validar. Every step was awkward, the movement looking unnatural.

To his utter surprise she handed it over to him without any trouble.“I c-c-can’t control my body!” Then, once the deed was done, she sunk to the ground like a puppet whose strings were cut. He ran to her without thinking, gathering her up in his arms.

Validar roared triumphantly, his foul laughter echoing through the large empty room. “You fool! Do you really think I didn’t know you true vessel of Grima?”

What little Robin color had left in her face drained away at his words. “You knew? All this time?”

Her father’s lips curled and his nostrils flared in disgust. “I always suspected. Your mother tried to hide it, and for years she had me fooled. But she was always weak, that woman. Or was I weak because I loved her?” For a moment there was something akin to softness in his voice. Whatever it was, the ruthless man crushed it within him seconds later without any second thought. “Whatever the case, I triumphed in the end. She cried and writhed in my torment like a rat being crushed, but in the end, she betrayed your little secret, just before she I killed her.”

“You… killed her?” The words fell from her lips like acid, eroding away the image of the father she thought she knew. “You monster! All these years, I thought you loved her, that you loved us! I trusted you! I cared for you when you mourned her! But it all meant nothing to you, didn’t it? Tell me father, were we every anything but _pawns_ to you?” She spat out, her face contorted with the venomous outburst.

Validar slammed a fist down on Grima’s altar, but the purple flames on were unaffected. “True love is sacrifice!” he bellowed back with a face like thunder and a rage equal to his daughter’s. “If we are not willing to die for a better tomorrow for our offspring, than how can we claim to love them. Search your teachings, you know it to be true!”

Robin shook her head in disbelief. Anything he said at this point was lost on her, Chrom figured. “Then… why did you let me go if you knew?”

“The Heart of Grima must be cultivated, strong with invisible ties of humanity before it can transcend above the mortal realm. You were an unworthy vessel, so I had to bide my time until you were ready.” Validar recounted with a sly smile on his face. “And then that idiotic zealot of a King offered me the perfect opportunity to do so while giving me access to the Fire Emblem. Then it was just a question of time until the Heart would blossom and you would be usable vessel.”

He held up his hand and showed them three large gemstones. “In the mean time I had time to collect three of the five gems. And you so kindly delivered the Argent to me.” With little effort the stones fitted back into the ancient shield. “Even without Gules, this is enough… At long last, the waiting is over! Master Grima will rise!” Validar exclaimed victoriously.

 Robin shook her head violently in disbelief. “Then all of this… was just a scam?” She uttered weakly, doing the math. This predated their marriage, probably even their birth. And all this time, when they had tried to stop this very event, they had helped it happen instead. “You never wanted Morgan?”

His lips curled up ever so slightly. “ _’A good leader plans ahead’_ , that is something your mother taught me. There was never any guarantee that you would become a true vessel. If that were the case, I needed to preserve the holy bloodline of Grima, and a new apprentice to boot.” His words were pragmatic and Chrom never wanted to hit the man quite so much as at that moment. “Imagine my surprise when the boy that was promised to me turns out to possess the Heart of Grima as well! We’ve waited a thousand years, and now the Gods grand me a second option! Glory to Grima, he is truly a most merciful god!” The zealous King exclaimed in reverence, making Chrom cover his mouth with his hands in utter disgust.

“You’re a monster…” Robin looked like she was about to vomit, and Morgan who had only known him as a kind grandfather looked utterly betrayed.

For a second, Chrom detected something not unlike hurt on the old man’s face, but it betrayed nothing in his tone. “You may think so, but you have played your cards Robin. In the end, none of what you thinks matters,” he delivered in short, clipped tones. “Now, out of my love for you I will allow you to choose your destiny: will it be you or your son?”

Robin rose to her feet slowly. Chrom looked at her in utter shock, and Morgan rushed back to her side, screaming: “Mother, no!”

She looked at her son with the kindest eyes. “I’m sorry Morgan, but a true parent would never sacrifice their child.” With that resolution in mind, she shook off their hands and walked towards Validar. “Take me father, but leave my son alone. Swear me this, and I am willing.“ A single tear streaked her face while her father guided her towards the altar.

But Chrom had seen more than enough. In one swift movement, he drew his sword and pointed it at Validar. “NO! Robin, stop!” He pleaded to his wife, his eyes still trained on the man that tried to take her away from him. “I will not let you do this! You might have been born a vessel of Grima, but you’re one of us now, and no ‘destiny’ can change that! I will not give in without at least one final battle! I call this treaty off Validar, right here and now!”  To emphasize his point, he charged towards his traitorous father-in-law. The rapier swished through the air and Valdiar had to leap to the side, narrowly avoiding a fatal slash to the chest.

Within seconds, Robin leaped to his side like the well oiled team they had been for many years. “You’re right Chrom, I’m sorry I gave up there.” The light was back in her eyes, and side-by-side they had always seemed invincible.

Chrom nodded, meeting the eyes he had fallen in love with years ago squarely. “We’re in this together remember?” He smiled to her, meeting his son’s eyes momentarily as well. They both nodded, a shaky smile on his son’s lips. “Now let’s kill this bastard and be done with it!”

“Morgan, go to Frederick and Sumia!” Robin shouted to their son, her eyes focused on her father who pulled a dark tome from a shelf.

“I won’t leave you Mother!” Morgan roared desperately, his voice cracking on the brink of adulthood. He was just a boy, Chrom thought to himself. How could anyone look at their son and even think of sacrificing him? In the end, Morgan listened to his mother and ran to door, only to find out that he could not escape the barrier that had been placed around them.

“Did you really think I was going to let you all escape so easily?” Validar mocked them cruelly. “This is already predestined to happen, so just submit to your fate.”

“Never!” Robin screamed back, drawing her Levin sword and dashing at Validar with the fury of a thousand bleeding hearts.

She nicked his arm, but the old man was too quick. Within seconds, a cry of _Nosferatu!_ echoed through the empty temple and Chrom had to dodge the dark assault with everything he had. Before he could move again a second attack cut through the side of his leg in a flash of pain. “Ugh!” He grunted before he rolled out of the way from the follow-up blast.

Robin was quick to his side with lighting from all sides. For a moment, it was just his magic against hers, thin sparks of dark and light magic flying from their clashing tomes. Chrom took his chance when it came and thrusted his swords straight at Validar in one quick, clean strike. A crimson spray of blood followed his sword’s path and the man cried out loudly in agony.

“Fools! Struggle all you want! You cannot unwrite what is already written!” He spat at them, clutching his bleeding side.

But the time for conversation was over and the couple answered his words with magic and steel.

But Validar was evasive. “Up there, Robin!” Chrom pointed at the  man in the air.

She leapt immediately into action. “On it Chrom!” she shouted back as she fired _Thoron_ after _Thoron_ at her father. The first few missed, but when one hit the man staggered back at the power of the impact.

The moment he faltered, Chrom was upon him with force he didn’t know he possessed. Like a demon, he raised his sword and brought it down upon Validar, once, twice, three times before the man could move out of his range.

Purple bolts of ancient magic rained down upon him with a vengeance.Chrom barely had time to breath, let alone dodge.  It was a testament to his experience in battle that he kept the presence of mind to roll to the right in a desperate dodge just second before he was hit.  Just in time, he thought to himself belatedly while he tried to catch his breath. He wouldn’t be so lucky next time if the fight kept going at this rate.

Their enemy could read his mind. “You fool, I’ll kill you like I killed your sister Emmeryn!” He declared cruelly.

Chrom knew it was a bait to make his blood pump and make his strikes desperate instead of calculated. He hated to admit it worked. “You bastard, don’t you dare speak her name!” he cried out, his sword hand twitching in anger. “That was you?”

Validar barely dodged a lightning blast from the left. “Oh yes, but then again, you already knew that didn’t you, Robin?” he cried cruelly while unleashing a bolt of _Waste_ in Morgan’s general direction. The boy, agile as a cat, parried the blast with a bolt of magic of his own. Chrom tried to focus but his words were getting to him. Robin had known who killed Emmeryn all this time? He barely dodged Validar’s next strike, his mind still reeling at the revelation. “Oh, what with that look on your face little King, didn’t she tell you?”

Robin met his eyes for a split second. _Later_

She threw away her Thoron tome and unleashed a torrent of dark magic from a tome that once belonged to her departed sister. Her father shrieked loudly as the assault hit his left leg with full force. “You won’t sow dissent between us so easily!” Robin declared passionately, raining lightning and dark magic without mercy on the man that she once loved.

Validar was losing and he knew it. Chrom parried one sloppy blast and leaped forward, his sword arm arched back, prepared to land the final blow. With all the power left in his arms, he swung forward, slashing straight through Validar’s shoulder. Blood splattered on the ground beneath them, and Validar’s eyes widened in utter disbelief.

That was when Robin’s Thoron hit him squarely in the back. “Arrgh!!!” Her father roared in agony and fell to his knees on to the bloody ground. Crimson leaked from various cuts, an occasional magical burn still charring his flesh. He could no longer support his own weight and sunk into the puddle of his own blood.

A wave of euphoria washed over Chrom. _It was over._ He leaped backwards, seeing if his young son was alright.

 “This isn’t over! Damn you both!” And with that dying breath he shot one last blast of the darkest of magic at him. It was too late to move, and Chrom braced himself for the hit that never came.

Instead Robin fell to the ground in front of him after taking the staggering hit right in her chest. When her body made contact with the ground, a sickening crunch echoed through the temple. Chrom was upon her within seconds.

He gathered her within his arms until she regained her consciousness. “Are you all right? Morgan, you too?” Their son nodded, his eyes drawn to his wounded mother. “That’s the end of him. Thanks to you we carried the day. We can rest easy now.”

Robin opened her mouth, but no sound came from her lips. Instead her eyes rolled back into her sockets and she spasmed violently.

He held her close to his chest, the euphoria upon their victory quickly dying down. “What’s wrong, Robin?”

But she didn’t answer. Instead, her body stilled completely and she opened her eyes faintly. But there was something different about the eyes he had known and loved for over a decade. They seemed to havefrozen over like the surface of a lake in winter, robbing them of their usual warmth.She tried to stand up on her own but faltered slightly.

He immediately rushed to her side and allowed her to lean on him while she steadied herself.“Hey, hang on-“ But before he could utter another word, a blinding pain shot through his stomach. “Arghh!” His scream was raw, and he staggered backwards from the force of the lightning that coursing through his body. Through narrowed eyes, he could see Robin’s hand still flickering with stray lightning, a look of utter confusion in her eyes. _Oh no._

“Father!” Morgan rushed to his side but Chrom’s mind was too clouded with pain to reassure the boy. “Mother, what did you do?” Morgan demanded of his mother, putting his short body between himself and Robin.

For a moment Robin’s kind face seemed conflicted. Then she closed her eyes and smiled sweetly. “Your mother isn’t here right now, little boy. Or is she?” she wondered falsely. Then she opened her eyes, blazing red with magic. “Yes, she is. She is I and I am she. Now, come to your mother, Morgan.”

The look on Morgan’s face was one of utter heartbreak, he staggered back until he was pressed against his father, shaking his head violently in disbelief. “You’re not my mother! Mother would never do this to father!” he declared with the resolution only a child could possess.

Robin stepped forward, shuffling awkwardly on a broken leg. “And yet, she met the three requirements that were necessary for my awakening. She was willing vessel with a strong Heart of Grima, she spilled my descendant’s blood as a sacrifice and allowed me to undo the Fire Emblem’s hold on the seal that prevented my awakening herself. Why would she have done that, if she was not me in the first place?”

Her logic was cruel and strong as it had been when Robin was still herself. And yet she could never have been less like Robin with the way she acted and sneered at her precious son.

“And now, at long last I am what I was meant to be! I am the wings of despair, I am the breath of ruin. I am the fell dragon, Grima! And you, my son, will submit to me!” She declared boldly into the empty hall. Morgan didn’t waver from his side for a second and fell into a defensive stance.

And just like that he could see it all spiraling out of control until no one he loved was left standing. “Robin, listen to me…” Although Chrom didn’t have the strength to look up, he staggered to his feet, clutching the wound in his stomach in a desperate attempt to change the course of fate.

“Father!” Morgan cried and supported his father’s weight with a strong arm.

“Morgan, this is not your f-fault. Promise me…. You’ll escape from this place,” Chrom pleaded, his body trembling and his lungs screaming in protest. With one movement, he unshackled the shield he  reclaimed in the heat of battle and gave it to his son. “Take the Fire Emblem and return to your sister. Naga will guide you both.” His words were heavy, and Morgan looked like he was seconds from brawling his eyes out.

Chrom shot a nervous look at Grima, who had chosen to observe them instead of attack them in their weakest moments. “But father, I can’t-“ Morgan began to argue but Chrom put a finger on his lips.

 “Morgan you may be a vessel of Grima but you’re also my son and that makes you a son of Naga.” He put his heart in every word he spoke, hoping that they would carry weight for the rest of his son’s life. “Don’t worry about me, I will catch up with you.”

Morgan didn’t look convinced. “But that looks really bad.”

A wry smile fought its way to Chrom’s face. “I’ve fought with your mother before, this is nothing.” With regret he kissed his son one last time on his brow, and pushed him towards the entrance. With Validar’s death, the barrier had fallen. When Morgan still lingered he cried in desperation. “Now, please, go!”

His boy nodded and shot one last uncertain look at his mother. Whatever resolve it gave him was enough to make him run towards the door without looking back, the Fire Emblem clutched to his chest.

For a surreal moment, both Grima and Chrom watched their son go away. Then; “You lied to him…. Why?” Grima’s voice was like Robin’s had been: genuinely curious.

Chrom drew his sword, trying to keep his vision from swimming. “For the same reason that you let him go.” he said cockily in a way he knew Robin would hate. The fact that the woman in front of him snarled dangerously confirmed that not all of Robin was lost. That was enough for him. He met her glowing red eyes straight-on. “Besides, I vowed ‘till death do us part’, baby. And I never intended to let it part us anyway, ” he admitted, drawing back his sword.

Robin’s laugh was cruel, but it was there anyway. “You’re a fool.” Even without a tome in hand, lightning danced on her fingertips, and Chrom’s broken body was barely able to move out of the way before it hit him fatally. The heat burned his cape, setting the bloodstained fabric aflame.

Chrom smiled deeply and shed the cloak. “Yes, I suppose I’ve always been a fool for you. Thank heavens our children inherited your brains.” He knew that this was not the time for jokes, but he was beyond pain at this point. It made him delirious, these last moments of life.

Grima snorted. “It won’t save them. After I’m done with you, I’ll destroy them and all that is left of your cursed bloodline.” Her voice promised nothing but utter chaos and destruction, but it was still Robin’s. Her hands drifted over the flaming altar, her face devoid of any emotion.“Once my immortal body forms from the thousands of human sacrifices, I will be unstoppable. It is just a matter of time, can’t you see that?”

Chrom squared his shoulders. “You’ll have to go through me first.”

That shook a shrill laughter from the fell dragon. “Foolish human, do you really believe that you could stop me?” Her voice was cruel and mocking, and he blasted him through the ground with a small shock of magic just for good measure. “You can barely stand!”

Regardless of the blood flowing freely from his wounds and the pain coursing though his body, Chrom stood up again. “I don’t delude myself that I could destroy you in a fair fight, nor that you would fight fair. But for as long as I draw breath I will stand and fight so that our children may live. And after me, another will rise up. They have Naga herself to protect them. You might win this battle, but you won’t win this war.” It sounded more like a vow than anything else, but Chrom had never gone back on his words, and even in the face of death that would not change.

Grima smirked, lips tilting into an amused smile when she spoke again. “We’ll see about that, puny one. If anything, you won’t be around to see it.”

And with that, it seemed as if the room lit up with purple energy. Blind lightning shot at him from all directions and Chrom managed to dodge the first and the second, but not the third bolt that was shot his way. As his body stilled upon impact, a fourth hit, and then another, and another. The assault seemed endless until Chrom’s body sagged to the ground. The pain that once burned like fire had faded away to an icy numbness and black ate at the edges of his vision until the only thing he could glimpse were he wife’s burning eyes staring down upon him. His breath became ragged and shallow.

“L-lov-e y--,” Was all he managed to utter before one of his lungs collapsed in a wave of pain. If he could have, he would have laughed at the puzzled look she gave him. Robin was in there somewhere, and he’d have to trust his friends and family to finish what they had started.

He thought he heard Emmeryn calling his name. He’d be joining her soon, leaving all of this behind. There would be no more battles, no more bedtime stories and no more stolen kisses. But, he thought as his consciousness faded away, he’d had them. Just because they were lost now didn’t mean they had never happened. With a smile on his face, he closed his eyes and his heart beat one last time and then never more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you all kill me, yes there will be an epilogue. However, the story was written through Chrom’s point of view, so naturally it ends when the poor boy bites the dust. Only one person guessed that I was writing a bad future fic, and I’ll take the fact that no one else did as a compliment. (The hints were everywhere though. If you go back they’ll hit you in the face, probably.) I have a few things to say about the characters and why I wrote them the way I did, but I will do that in a separate post on my tumblr 'ingrimasname'. If you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask them!
> 
> Thank you all for seeing me through this adventure! I would like to thank mitsurukirijoed for her feedback and beta work, and Sarai337 for her never ending encouragement, especially during the last two tough chapters. I hope to see all of you one last time for the epilogue, and maybe when I write a new fanfic some time in the future.
> 
> HAIL GRIMA!


	9. The Outrealm Gate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All things must end.

Morgan ran as fast as his legs were able to carry him out of the building, shaking with every breath he took. The tears streaming down his face made it even harder to see where he’s going, and he could only hope that his memory didn’t abandon him when he needed it the most. But worst of all was the splitting headache accompanied by the blinding pain in his marked hand. Every step he took away from his parents was a sting from his Mark of Grima, but his mother prepared him too well for this day to for him not know what was going on. He blinked away another wave of tears and tried to suppress the dread that was swirling in his stomach, threatening to make him throw up.

He knew very well that his mother isn’t coming back. Once, in the privacy of their secret training room high in the western tower she made him promise that if this time would come, he would drive a bolt of pure white lightning straight through her heart. He balled his fists, ignoring the white pain that raced up his nerves as he did so. Another promise broken.

When he finally reached the exit of the temple he was met with a distressed Sumia and Frederick. “Are you okay? You’re covered in blood.” Frederick’s voice, normally so calm and collected, betrayed the distress that was so obvious on his face.

Morgan dared not meet his eyes. “Still in there. He’s buying us time.” He told them honestly, and Sumia released a pained gasp.

“Time to do what?” Sumia asked softly. Behind her, Frederick’s face turned white and Morgan knew at that moment that he realized at least some extent of what is going on. His wife was still firmly in denial, checking Morgan for wounds while she speaks. “We’ll have to go and help him.”

“No. No, he’ll catch up with us, he promised.” Morgan heard himself say, while something sinister in his head shrieks and laughs maliciously, chanting _‘liar, liar, liar!_ ’ until he can hear nothing else. He put his bloody hands on his temples and focused on making his mind entirely empty. Once the quiet has returned, he met Frederick and Sumia’s worried eyes.  “We have to get this to Ylisse, and quickly.”

Their eyes immediately dart to the ancient relic that formerly never left his father’s side, now dangling from his own shoulder like an oversized shield on a small child. “The Fire Emblem?” Sumia uttered out in surprise, and Frederick’s eyes became dead and dull when Morgan nodded. “But why Morgan? What could be more important than saving our King and Queen?”

“Saving our Kingdom, for one.” He repeated the words his mother told him so many times before, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible. Now is not the time to panic. The voice from before returned, a whisper in the back of his mind, telling him that it is too late for his father anyway because he is dead as dust. He tried not to listen to it, and raised his own voice in an effort to drown out the noise. “Listen, I don’t know how much my parents told you, but the worst they had feared has come to pass. That dark cloud over there? It’s not a cloud at all, but a Fell Dragon gaining a corporal body. Once the ritual is complete there will be no escaping this place, so we have to be fast!”

And with those words, he urges them to follow him, and they run away from the temple. The dark cloud that is gathering above the Dragon’s Table beckons him with soothing tones that none else seems to hear, but his father’s blood is still warm on his hands and he will not give in, no matter what.

“Gods, I knew those two were hiding something, I knew it!” Frederick’s voice is booming with anger and betrayal, and Morgan can’t help but feel the same despite the fact that he knew what was going on.  After a few curses he never heard from Frederick’s mouth before, the old knight calmed down a bit, a look of concern on his face. “Can you make the journey, my prince?”

Morgan nodded in agreement despite the fact that his head is about to explode. “Another lie of my parents. I’m not as weak as they always made me out to be.” It comes out more childishly than he would have liked, but it does get the point across. “Besides, none of this blood is mine.”

Sumia shook her head, and when they reached their mounts she lifts him up from the ground with surprisingly little effort. “You’re tired to the bone, Morgan. Sit on the back of my Pegasus, and we’ll be in Ylisse in no time.” Her smile was kind and Morgan just wanted to cry.

He sat down behind her, and held on to her like she was his mother, letting the tears flow freely. With a heavy heart they leave the temple and his parents behind, knowing very well that Chrom isn’t catching up with them. The journey is long and harsh, with very few breaks and danger around every bend of the road. Morgan’s headache was strong enough to blind him at the worst times, and he lost consciousness more than once. But there was never time to rest properly, because no matter how many they shot down, there was always another horde of risen on their heels.

“How do they keep finding us?” Sumia cried out, narrowly avoiding what seemed like the thousandth arrow since they left Plegia. The voice in Morgan’s head gives her the answer but Morgan keeps his silence, merely clinging closer to her. The white Pegasus is an easy target, and despite Sumia’s amazing flying skills, she cannot dodge every arrow. In the end, one buried itself in the unarmored part of her stomach, making her shriek in pain and lose grip of the reigns. Another arrow hit the left side of her Pegasus, and then they’re both spiraling down despite their best efforts. Morgan cushions their fall a little with a gust of _Elwind_ , but when they hit the ground they still hear a sickening crunch that does not belong to him.

Once on the ground, Frederick and him are able to team up and fend off their assailants. But when they returned to Sumia, it was already too late. “No…” Frederick muttered over and over again, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as he cradles her broken, bleeding body. His wife merely smiled at him and told him how much she loves him and how fortunate she was to be at his side for all those years. Her words became more strained with every syllable, and even with the little healing magic he knew, he can tell that this is the end. Morgan cried too, wondering if his mother held his father like this too in the end.

In the end Sumia turned her head slightly to him, and pointed at her old battle-proven lance. “Give it to my daughter.” She pleaded weakly, her eyes closed with the effort of forming words. “Let it keep her safe w-when I’m… unable to s-so.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks as her husband cradled her face softly in his hands. “My love, don’t say that.” He pleaded to her and all the gods. Maybe if Lissa had been here, she might have been able to heal her. But they are days from Ylisstol and Sumia’s guts are spilling out of her stomach. Nevertheless, she smiles at them.

“H-hush Frederick, and kiss me one… last… time...” Her words were loving and peaceful, and how could he deny her final request? Morgan looks away politely despite it all. Then her heart beats one final time, a quiet last breath escaping her one last time. Frederick screamed her name, but she doesn’t answer, and she never would again. Morgan walks away from them, feeling like an intruder in a never ending funeral. No matter how many times he wiped his hands on his tunic, they never get clean of all the spilled blood.

When Frederick calmed down a little Morgan helps him make a small funeral pyre for her and her old Pegasus. Morgan set it aflame, and for a few minutes they watched another loved one burn. But there were no more tears to cry, so Morgan gripped the spear Sumia entrusted to him until his knuckles turned white.

In the distance they could already hear the next group of Risen catching up with them, and they both knew they didn’t have time for any proper funeral rites. “To Ylisstol.” Frederick’s voice was emotionless, as if his heart went up in flames along with his wife. Even at the worst of times, he is still a knight that serves Ylisse, and Morgan allows himself to lean on this man made of steel.  

Together they raced towards the capital, a road littered with abandoned villages and charcoaled woods. When they got to Ylisstol it was in flames, everything they once called home were burning to ash. The air was heavy with the smell of burnt flesh and smoke to the point that Frederick told him to cover his mouth before he would get sick before the fight had even started. Of the city he had known and loved was nothing but a skeleton left, and for a moment Morgan allowed himself to think that maybe they were already too late. But Frederick’s eyes were focused on the burning castle alone, and together

When his feet touched the ground of the palace he had called his home his entire life, there was little time for rest. Frederick didn’t bother dismounting from his horse and stormed right through the mass of risen that were assaulting a poor woman, crying his daughter’s name with every strike of his lance. It was an effective way of clearing the road for him, Morgan thought in the back of his mind, and wasted no time looking for his sister. After a skirmish or two in the halls of his home, he found her in the throne room, facing Grima no less.

The dragon was enormous: six wings, sharp teeth and nothing like his mother at all. It’s not his mother, he reminds himself forcefully. And it’s not him either. Nevertheless, his knees trembled and for a second he is rooted to the ground as the Fell Dragon speaks, her voice booming and maleficent. “So ends the human race. The future is built upon the past, but your kinds shall never see it!” The fierce creature bellowed, her grotesque form blocking out the light of the moon. Yet his sister stood tall in front of him, her eyes deviant till the end as the dragon revealed the horrible truth.  “Your mother and father are dead, tiny one. And now it is your turn to DIE!”

His sister’s determined cry brought him back to reality, and in horror Morgan watches her charge straight at the dragon that is about to swallow her whole. Without thinking he channeled all the power that had been building up in him and cried the incantation his mother had made him vow only to use in a situation of life and death. _“Expiration!”_

For a moment he felt nothing but energy seeping from his skin, and for the first time since he left his father behind his headache fades slightly. Then, it is as if all the shadows around him explode in an effort to swallow Grima whole. The Fell Dragon gives a sound that sounds like surprise, and Lucina uses the moment of hesitation to get out of her way. The large dragon than gives a deafening roar and with a beat of her powerful wings, flies up and away from them. Lucina let out a surprised sigh of relief, and turned to her.

When their eyes met, his knees buckled and he fell to the ground, his fingertips still singing with the power of the incantation. She was covered in blood, their father’s sword at her side, but nothing could have stopped her from running to him. “Morgan!” She cried out, tears in her eyes as her arms come around him. For a moment he allowed himself to close his eyes and go Lucina smelled like ashes, but also like mother and father and for a second he is home and everything is okay again. When he opened his eyes, his sister was staring at him with concern. “Oh Morgan, when you didn’t return…. I thought you were all dead! Where are mother and father?”

Morgan merely shook his head, refusing to meet his sister’s eyes, unable to watch the light go out in someone’s eyes again in such a short time. Lucina’s painful gasp told him all he needs to know, and he held on to his older sister even more tightly. It’s all the family he has left now, and he vowed right there and then to never lose this member, no matter what.

But the time doesn’t stand still just because their world has crashed down. Grima still circles the castle, albeit at a higher altitude than before. Whatever he did, Morgan reckons it was effective, if only for a few minutes. But with the Fell Dragon gone, the risen returned with a vengeance. The siblings shared a look, and nodded.

“What now?” Lucina asked him the way his father used to ask his mother for political advice when he was stuck with a particular issue.

Morgan tried to think like his mother had taught him, levelheadedly even in the face of peril. He calmed his breathing. “We gather up whoever we can find, and then we run.” It’s not a soundproof strategy, but they both know that Ylisstol is lost. He gives her the Fire Emblem, and his sister looked at him stragely. “Father wanted you to have it.”

“You should carry it, little brother. I already have Falchion. We should both have-“ She didn’t finish her sentence but she didn’t need to. Morgan shook his head, refusing to take the relic back. It’s too large on him anyway, and for some reason the voices in his head are stronger when he wears it.

 _‘Besides,’_ one of them chimes in the back of his mind. _‘You already have a memento of your father: the blood on your hands.’_

 Together they slash and burn their way through legions of undead, gathering whoever they can from the burning remains of their old home. They found Cynthia screaming at her father’s dead body, Severa and Owain fighting at her side to keep her safe while she mourned. Not until Morgan returned her mother’s lance to her did she sober up, adopting a look of determination at her face that would never waver again for as long as Morgan would know her.

Maribelle’s corpse laid not too far from Frederick’s, a healing staff still clutched into her cold hand. Her face, contorted in anguish even in death is something that will haunt him for the rest of his days. Next to his dead mother sat Brady, desperately trying to heal an unconscious Noire while tears streamed down his face in spades. It’s too much, far too much to handle for him and every time Morgan thought that there were no more tears left in him to cry, he was proven wrong. By dawn they found Yarne, Inigo and Laurent as well, bloody and tired but otherwise fine. Once they got out of the castle Nah and Gerome caught up with them, their flying forms a sight for sore eyes.

With them was their aunt Lissa, who embraced him immediately after her own son had let go of her. “Morgan, tell me what happened in Plegia? Where is Chrom?” She demanded desperately, despite her bleeding wounds and broken leg.

“Father and Mother are dead.” Is all he can choke out, and the finality of his own word frighten him. His aunt pained gasp physically hurt him, the tears streaming down her face reigniting all the pain he had been trying to suppress for days. He felt too young and too tired for all of this, and without making the conscious decision to do so his legs gave out and he fell to the ground, embracing the bliss of unconsciousness.

When he opened his eyes again his face was safely cradled on his sister’s lap like his mother always used to do to him when he felt bad about something. “Are you feeling better now?” His aunts voice is soothing but he could still hear the tears in her voice without having to look at the deep red tear tracks on her face.

His sister’s eyes face was stone, and Morgan admired her strength. “What do we do now?”

For a moment nobody spoke, the silence sounding as desperate as he felt, until Nah cut through the tension like a sword.  “We should go to Mount Prism and awaken the Falchion with Fire Emblem. It’s the only way to defeat Grima.”

The rest of their makeshift group looked at the young manakete strangely. “How do you know this?”

“Naga spoke to me.” Nah answered as if it were the most normal thing in the world, and if they weren’t sitting in a cave not far from their burned down former home, Morgan would have laughed.  

Instead he raised himself from his sister’s lap, ignoring the dizziness that immediately overcame him, and spoke. “She’s right. Father… the last thing he told me was to get the Fire Emblem to Lucina. He must have known.”

Lissa made a strangled noise from where they had laid her down. “Those two! I’m so angry at them!” She cried out, but her voice was more pained than angry to him. “Why did they never tell us what was going on? For years they acted strangely, and I let it go. They knew this day would come, didn’t they?” The effort seemed to exhaust her extremely, and Brady and Owain shared anguished look when she spit out some blood.

Before Lucina could deny their aunt’s words, Morgan nodded at her. “They feared this would happen. Mother told me bits and pieces of it, from time to time I don’t know everything, but what I do know is that everything they did was to stop this moment from happening.” His voice was even despite how he felt. The little voices in his head laughed cruelly. _‘And they failed.’_

“Why didn’t they tell me? Why you Morgan?” Lucina’s voice was broken and for the first time he sensed vulnerability from his invincible older sister.

“Because….” He hesitated for a second, and then decided against it. “I don’t know. Mother was always close to me, I suppose.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Lissa argued back, coughing up even more blood after she spoke. Despite the strength of her words, Morgan wondered if she would last the night.

 But before his dying aunt could pierce through his lies Lucina spoke up, her voice authorities and strong, and so much like their father’s that Morgan could hear his last words echo through his mind all over again. “Enough, there is no use for speculating. It’s a very long walk to Mt. Prism, and I don’t think we will be able to make it unhindered.”

Morgan nodded quickly, glad to agree with her. “We should rest while we still can, and move out as soon as we have the cover of dark and prey that Grima won’t find us.”

Lissa coughed harshly again, and all attention was averted from the conversation after that. She became delirious with pain before the sun set, talking to Owain as if he were his father. “I kept this safe all this years, my love. Just like you told me to do.” And with that she gave her son both her ring and a locket that her husband had gifted her before Morgan could remember. “I’ve never told a soul, I promise Lon’qu. I promise. Stop looking so sad at me, I never told anyone! Don’t cry.”

Before the moon was high up in the sky, she closed her eyes and didn’t open them again. The camp was quiet after that. They laid her in the earth by the first light of the morning and marked her burial site with her staff, and that was all they could do. Even Lucina cried when they left the grave behind, supporting a sobbing Owain while they started their great trek towards the sacred mountain.

Lucina’s assessment turned out to be correct. In peaceful times it would have taken them a mere two weeks to march from Ylisstol to Mt. Prism. However, with Risen besieging them almost daily and most roads and villages torched and destroyed the journey was a lot harsher and longer. There was little food and even less to talk about without falling into despair. Morgan kept his mouth shut about what happened in Plegia like his life depended on it, too afraid to release some information about his mother that might make them turn on him.

When his aunt finally dared to ask him how his parent’s died he was suitably vague about it and concluded that they were betrayed by a person they trusted, implying that his late grandfather had lured them in a trap. His mother would have been proud of his tale, he was sure of it. Something in Lucina’s eyes told him that she knew that he wasn’t telling everything, but with a horde of Risen at their heels almost every day there was little time for her to question him. After three long months they were finally able to reach the mountain.

With only four stones in the Fire Emblem Lucina was only able to do a partial awakening, but Naga assured them with a will of fire they would be able to slay Grima. “Not with this sword perhaps.” She added, and showed them a vision of a portal long forgotten by history.

“The Outrealm Gate? Isn’t that only a myth?” Lucina questioned, but the large dragon deity shook her head.

“No, Awakeners, it is real, and it will be your path of salvation.” Her voice was soothing and melodious and yet the very sound of it irritated something deep within Morgan. “You must travel back to the past to change the future. This time, it is already beyond hope. Here, Grima will not be put back to sleep.”

Lucina’s brow furrowed. “What will happen to this world once we leave it?”

Naga’s voice was grave, but she never paused or sugarcoated the harsh truths. “It will go up in flames, and slowly but surely spiral into oblivion. As it will if you stay here. That is the fate of this world. But return, awakener, and challenge your fate. Push time thread out of the banks of its original course, and you may succeed.” She gave them another vision, an image of their parent’s young and alive, accompanied with an aunt he never knew.

“Is it the only way?” Severa’s voice sounded uncharacteristically soft from the back of the group.

“It is.” The goddess’ voice was absolute.

“Then I shall go.” His sister said without hesitation, turning back to their little group, sharing eye contact with each of them for a few seconds before she spoke again.  “I could never ask you to follow me, but I would be honored to have you all at my side.”

The very thought of leaving the last of his family behind felt an arrow straight through his chest, and before he could even think his lips moved on their own, spilling all his thoughts without thinking. “You’re all I have left Lucina. I promised mother once that I would do anything to save this family, and I intend to keep that promise.”

Lucina smiled back at him, and despite the fact that his mother had definitely never meant it like this when she made him promise that, he felt as if it were his mother smiling down on him.

“Me too.” Owain chimed in, and all others were quick to follow. Morgan nodded, looking at his new family of scarred survivors. What was left for them in the world, anyway? For the first time in months Morgan allowed a genuine smile to spread on his face, a splinter of hope worming its way back into his heart.

“Then we go, as one.” She declared, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

And so they did. Once again, the road was long and harsh, and they were short on supplies. There were not more fields of crops or flowers left, nor houses that could provide shower from the acid that rained down from the sky. Sometimes, a dark shadowy cloud seemed to follow them, ever staying at a distance. Morgan’s mark of Grima burned deeply into his skin, but he never tells the rest. The headache never fades again, a constant companion in the long trek towards a new future.

Both Lucina’s sixteenth and Morgan’s thirteenth birthday had passed by the time they reached the Outrealm Gate. In the dark of the night the gate shone with an unnatural light, proving Naga’s words to be right all along. Morgan wondered if the gate had always had such a strong presence or if this was the divine dragon’s work.

“When we get to the future, everybody must try to conceal their identities. We must change as little as possible so we can predict what is to come.” They had spoken about this before, in the early mornings when the wind was the coldest.

“But, what about our parents?” Inigo protested loudly. “I want to meet them!” Others nodded in agreement.

Lucina sighed, her features stern. “After we save the world there will be plenty of time for that.”

Morgan nodded, as always at his sister’s side. “It will not be hard for most of us because they don’t know that we are their children in the first place. Although I think you should cover your face Lucina before anybody notices your brand of the Exalt and thinks you’re some kind of bastard child.” He tapped his own covered hands as well, and Lucina nodded.

“I have a mask for you.” Gerome spoke up, and Morgan wondered if he had made it for her in preparatory of this moment a long time ago. Whatever it was, the mask fit her perfectly. With practiced ease Lucina bound her hair until it looked like a boy’s haircut, and just like that she was an entirely different person.

Before anybody could add anything to their disguise, Noire cried out. “Risen! How did they find us?” And true to her word a dangerous group of undead warriors were moments from reaching their destination. Morgan cursed an ancient Plegian word under his breath. How had he not noticed their approach? The voice in his head told him in no uncertain terms that there could truly only be one reason, and it made cold sweat break out on his back.

Lucina was unaffected, and without hesitation she raised her sword, prepared to fight once again. “There is no time for more discussions, we should go now!”

Morgan gestured to the gate and fell into a defensive stance. “Hurry, I’ll be right behind you!” He cried out, unleashing a gust of wind at his undead opponent.

“I’m not leaving you behind!” His sister cried out as her sword slashed through a Risen’s throat.

“I’ll be right behind you, now go!” He lied right after he released another bolt of thunder on the risen that was about to harm Owain. “There is no time to argue!”

After a moment of doubt she nodded, and ran towards the portal to another world. Morgan’s heart stopped the second Lucina was swallowed by the strange light, and then she was gone. Four risen followed her in, but he knew she would be alright, wherever she was. Their parents would look after her, he was sure.

“Go, follow her! I’ll close the gate behind you guys!” He bellowed at the rest, and they believed his words. One by one they dove into the gate that would bring them to a better world, or so Morgan hoped. Owain was the last to go, and he sent him a wary look before he went in. He just smiled back at his cousin, shouting: “Don’t worry, I’ll be right behind you!”

It didn’t erase the look on his face, and at that moment Morgan wondered if Owain knew what he was really about to do. His cousin nodded solemnly and jumped head first into the Outrealm Gate.

Morgan released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in the first place. The few remaining Risen were easily defeated, but he knew that was when the real challenge would start. From the shadows a dark yet welcoming presence emerged, bearing the face of his deceased mother.

Despite the fact that he had been prepared to face her, it still hurt him to see his mother’s kind face contorted in such a malicious smile. “I knew it was you…” He positioned himself firmly in between the Fell Dragon and the portal.

His mother’s face nodded. “Morgan, let me pass.” Her voice was kind yet demanding, in a way that his mother would have never spoken to him. In response he fell into a defensive stance, his mother’s old sword and tome in hand. The vessel rolled her eyes at his deviance. “We can go in together, it will be like that road trip we were going to make some day, do you remember that?”

Her sickly sweet voice hurt his ears, his blood rushing to his head. How dare she speak with his mother’s voice? She had always told him to keep his head cool in peril, but how could he? He’d seen his mother fall to her worst nightmare, his father sacrifice himself so he could get away, his surrogate parents had died protecting him, and even his indestructible aunt had fallen. There was too much blood, and when he saw the dragon in his mother’s body, his bloody rage knew exactly who it was to blame. “My mother is dead, and I will not let you harm my sister!” He bellowed out loudly, and unleashed the dark energy within him, hitting the unsuspecting imposter straight in the chest.

But the woman didn’t even budge, merely incrassating the blow. A cruel snicker escaped her lips. “Who says I want to harm her?” Her words were almost a joke, and it only worked to get Morgan more angry. This time he charged at her with his sword, unafraid like his sister had been. She didn’t even bother dodging, allowing him to cut the side of her arm. For a second her lack of resistance through him off balance, which was enough for her to blast him back, away from his defensive position at the portal. “But enough of this, come to me, now!”

His head hit the ground painfully, and his vision was swimming. He cried out softly, unable to give a coherent answer. All he could see was a dark cloud enveloping him. “You can’t fight the call of your master, Morgan. Surrender yourself to me and all will be alright!” A voice so much like his mother’s cried.

He closed his eyes and tried to keep his mind empty, focusing only on the words she spoke. “N-Never,” he uttered out weakly, trying to regain his grip on reality. “You killed my f-father and mother!”

His mother’s voice sounded angry, echoing through the hall. “I _am_ your mother!”

But even in his reduced state of mind Morgan knew that his mother would never have hurt him like this. Suddenly the memory of  his father’s blood on his hands returned to him, making him dizzy. “My mother would never kill my father!” He cried out with the last of his strength. “I’ll never join my mother’s murderer!”

He heard his mother sneer at his words, and then press something against his forehead. For a moment, the feeling was a comforting one, reminding him of lazy spring days spend in the privacy of their garden, just Lucina, his parents and himself. And then that beautiful image corrupted and the world was on fire, and he saw everything that Grima had seen. The despair, the destruction, the senseless murder, it was as if it were him all along. Tears fell down his face as he was forced to watch every horrible thing that had happened ever since his world had fallen apart. Then, when he thought he had seen the worst, the scene changed again. His father was ripped apart before his eyes, his mother’s laughing voice accompanying every scream. The blood was everywhere, and it was as if he shared his father’s horrible fate. He screamed then, a blood curdling one, and his mind short circuited. Finally, the darkness enveloped his senses, and he knew no more save for the concerned face right before his own.

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“Stupid woman.” Grima snorted in disdain. It would be so easy to kill the small child, and yet their body wouldn’t let them. Then, a devious plan came to their mind, and a cruel smile found its way to their lips. With little effort they raised the drained body up and carried him towards the portal, muttering: “I still have use for you, my child. Besides….”

The portal was barricaded, still. So it wasn’t the child’s doing after all. Grima smiled wickedly. Did Naga really think they would be stopped so easily? With the power of chaos that coursed through their body, he destroyed the construct of the Devine Dragon with surprising ease. The barrier scattered to the ground and the swirling energy of a thousand worlds was bared before them.

They would lose strength by going to another world. Grima shrugged: there was no limit to their power, and whatever they had gained here they could gain again. But if those damned kids would get their way and prevent their rising… Now that would be a problem, and not one they could risk. Without another thought they entered Outrealm Gate, their eyes on the sleeping son in their arms. “You never know when a new vessel would come in handy.”

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Robin awoke to the sound of a strangely familiar voice.

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's a wrap! We all know what happens next, right? First of all, I want to thank each and everyone who followed this story for the past few months, it's been a great learning exercise and I enjoyed it very much. I especially want to thank my Beta, who continues to work on the corrections of the last few chapters, and all the loyal reviewers, who both made me snicker and think about the implications of my work. Lovely, lovely people.
> 
> I have a lot of stuff to say about this fic, but I won't bore you with it except for the fact that a sequel might follow at some point. I'm not entirely sure about that yet because I don't feel like rewriting the plot of Awakening again. Though I did put some unanswered questions in that would be answered in a sequel. If you have any question about the story I would be happy to answer them for you! I hope you enjoyed this epilogue, and I hope to see all of you again when I write one of my future stories. Until then, HAIL GRIMA!


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